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meimi-haneoka · 2 years ago

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Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card Chapter 65: Comments + JP-ENG translation differences

End of the month, time for another chapter of Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card Arc!

This month we have chapter 65, the first chapter of the future volume 14, which might or might not be the last one of this arc (personally, I have a hard time believing everything can be wrapped up within the 14th, especially seeing how they took this entire chapter to introduce the world of Clockland).

And let me tell you, it was a very oneiric chapter, exactly what I’ve been expecting from the world where our Sakura/Alice was bound to be thrown into sooner or later: I’ve been anticipating a strange world, where nothing really made sense and where the reader is left to use their brain big time to understand what’s going on. And beautiful drawings, of course. Which CLAMP totally delivered in this chapter.

So before diving into this literal rabbit’s hole that is chapter 65, I’d like to reveal the gif of the month, which I find particularly fitting this time around 😂:

Sit down, relax and get stoned let’s analyze together this chapter 65!

The Color Page

ALL HAIL THE RED QUEEN AKIHO!!!

The last time our lovely Akiho was featured alone on a color page was back in chapter 23. 42 chapters ago. Sure, she’s been featured other times, but always in combination with Sakura, which honestly contributed to exacerbate the annoying opinion that’s recurring in the fandom, “she’s just Sakura’s carbon copy”. Akiho is a unique character with her unique characteristics and quirks, who deserves to see that uniqueness being recognized more.

In this color page we finally find out the colors of her play outfit: contrarily to what I imagined in my own fanart, CLAMP decided to take the emo/darker route and paint the bodice and upper layer of her dress all black, with red lining. But if you look hard enough, you can actually recognize they’re simply keeping everything in theme: the illustration itself got the same background of the one with Sakura and Syaoran from last month, same clocks, same gears. Akiho’s dress is mostly black with a smaller white part, while Sakura’s outfit is mainly white with black accessories. I kinda knew it would’ve ended up being black for Akiho, but since she’s the Red Queen, I hoped the red would be more prominent. 😅 In this way it really gives off the “mourning bride” vibe I was complaining about last month, but since some followers on Twitter have suggested to me a brighter way to interpret that, I won’t be particularly bothered by the choice of colors. And then, and then….Akiho looks really GORGEOUS in them 😁

As I said often lately, the darker vibe suits her. Because of her past, and what she went through. Darkness is, willing or not, part of her too.

All things considered, we’re definitely entering a “sub-arc” (the play) and so it’s fitting they would develop a “theme” to be portrayed on the color pages. Besides that, I also realized that the 3 kids are dressing in a way that is matching Momo, who’s got her own outfit equally divided in black and white, with golden accents. That makes sense, since they’re likely inside of Alice in Clockland, and so Momo’s book. Now we're only missing Kaito on the color page, so we can see the color combination of his outfit too (I will guess white with black decorations, at this point).

And now, let’s proceed unto the actual chapter itself!

Take me to Wonderland

The chapter opens with Sakura sleeping in fetal position in an unspecified environment. A voice asks her “Alice. Tell me, Alice. What is sorrow to you?”. You remember this line, right?

Momo asked this to her back in chapter 50.

The decoration in the upper left corner of the page signals to us that we’re witnessing the story coming from the Alice in Clockland book.

The style of the clock hands is precisely the same on the cover of that book, while the gear is arranged a bit differently. From now on, the chapter will be completely dialogue-less for 9 pages.

Sakura/Alice wakes up and finds herself in front of a scenery that we know very well….but she seems to not recognize. We’re in the maze created by the Labyrinth Clear Card!

A giant bird flies over Sakura/Alice’s head. (Mirage) She starts to run, seemingly after the bird, climbing the endless stairs of that maze (Reflect and Snooze). Chasing after Snooze’s fluff ball, she finds a creature between a fish and a bird (Gale). Following the creature and climbing more stairs, she witnesses two other creatures, one made of water and the other made of fire, battling eachother (Aqua and Blaze). A gust of wind lifts her up in the air as if her weight is nothing, and a giant spiral opens up above her (Spiral). The spiral engulfes her, removing her from that environment.

Meanwhile, in another corner of that world, Syaoran is still climbing on some stairs, that now are starting to crumble, looking for Sakura. With his proverbial agility, he’s able to jump from a piece of debris to another and latch onto a safe part of the stairs, while thinking to himself that there’s a very powerful spell at work, so much that it could create this “world” they’re in now. Syaoran tries to motivate himself to stay focused, or the minimum wavering of his conscience will cause him to be literally yeeted from that world. After all, he’s only got this one chance to bring Sakura back.

And indeed, we go back to our Sakura/Alice, who emerges in another part of that world.

Her surroundings are just like those of a picture book. But a bird that was only painted onto the background starts to move by surprise, startling Sakura/Alice. To Sakura/Alice’s surprised exclamation, a creature sitting on a flower with the appearance of Rika (Appear) tells her that the bird moved because she wished for it.

To Sakura/Alice’s surprised answer, “Rika” explains that this whole [world] manifested its appearance because she wished for it.

Sakura/Alice is still unconvinced, and replies back that since this is “Clockland”, there must be a Queen here. Her interlocutors change immediately though, as she finds herself in front of creatures bearing the appearances of Naoko, Chiharu and Yamazaki (True or False, Synchronize). It is to be noted that Sakura doesn’t seem to recognize or get surprised to see any of them. This is the major indication that Sakura might not be aware to be Sakura, but actually believing to really be Alice.

“Chiharu” and “Yamazaki” confirm that indeed the Red Queen is present in this world.

Sakura/Alice reiterates that this land is something that should be governed by its Queen, and so the [world] too must be governed by her.

Pay close attention to this affirmation. Sakura here is affirming that they're in Clockland, and the Red Queen (Akiho) must be the one governing (so taking decisions for) this world. But Sakura is apparently the one doing it instead. Even though this isn’t the natural order of things. What does happen when Sakura points this out (with a very serious expression)?

“Chiharu” and “Yamazaki” ignore her rightful objection and offer her tea. God.

Let’s take a step back, getting out of the story layer of the play for a moment, and let’s analyze this scene.

When Sakura asks “Why isn’t Akiho deciding for this?”, the other characters change topic.

Considering who’s likely involved with this strange world (you’ll see more hints later), it doesn’t surprise me in the least that this rightful question gets ignored. And if this is really what CLAMP want to tell us through this scene, I can only applaude them.

Back to our story, Sakura/Alice accepts the tea, and “Naoko” speaks. She reiterates, just like explained by the Cat, that everything will be decided by her, and what she will decide will shape the [world].

But, “Chiharu” and “Yamazaki” interject, somebody’s dream is intertwined with this world. Dreams are wishes too. And those two call to eachother, making each other stronger as a result. (to be really honest, this part is a bit confusing no matter the language, so we'll just leave it here for now)

We reach the first part where I think the ENG translation went a bit too far, imposing an interpretation that (as usual) is left very vague in the Japanese version, and it’s supposed to feel that way (just look at what kind of world we’re in! IT IS supposed to sound confusing!)

Naoko, ENG: “You have to look within yourself...and decide whether you desire dreams..or the truth”

Naoko, JP: “You’ll have to ascertain... Is it a Dream (False), or is it Reality (True)?”

As you can see we have once again the play on words that was featured back in chapter 58 (kaji says something, while furigana says a different word), right after the capture of True or False, and that one got lost in translation too. It’s nice to point out these small details lost along the way because they’re proof that everything is coming together and many things that happen now and will happen later will recall something that was said/happened earlier in the story. Even “Rika”’s scene of a couple of pages ago is strongly reminiscing of the encounter Sakura had with the talking flowers (which told her the same things) back in chapter 39, one of the creepiest chapters of the whole story.

The characters tell Sakura/Alice to go forward, following what she decided to do. Again, a very strong CLAMP thematic, “choices”, is echoing loud and clear in this scene.

Sakura/Alice proceeds forward, and holy moly, what do we have here?? A creature looking like Tomoyo (Repair) is sitting under a gazebo sewing with love a piece of fabric.

Hold on a second.

We have already seen that gazebo.

Yeah.

It is exactly the same gazebo Lilie and little Kaito were sitting under, in the flashback of chapter 60, while Kaito was dreaming of his past. It happened shortly ago so maybe it’s still in the memories of many fans.

Before moving forward, I’d like to take this detail to point out that this might be a major hint of whose dream is intertwined with this world. I think it’s Kaito’s, since earlier on they were talking about someone’s dream with a strong wish. If there’s anything we know in this Clear Card Arc, is that Kaito is conjuring up a major mess in order to fulfill a wish he’s got. We still don’t know exactly what that wish is, but in this moment there’s probably no one with a stronger wish than him in the story.

And if this is the case, then having Lilie’s gazebo here makes sense. As it’s his dream too, parts of his subconscious might appear here and there along the way. Who knows what else will appear later on. It’ll be interesting to see.

Sakura/Alice asks “Tomoyo” what she’s sewing (again, no sign that she recognizes her and to be fair no sign from Tomoyo too), and she replies “a dress for someone important”.

Sakura, once again, asks if the dress is for the Red Queen (she still feels the Queen should actually be the protagonist in this strange world), and “Tomoyo” says that yes, she did sew one for the Queen too, but this one she’s sewing now is a dress for her most important person.

Now, I’ll just point out a pet peeve of mine that is not technically an error in the ENG translation, but I wished they kept truer to the original.

In the JP version, there’s no clear indication of “girl” from Tomoyo (indeed, I could already feel from the reading of the ENG version that it was so damn direct for someone like Tomoyo, so I already kinda knew I would find something different in the JP version). Tomoyo uses the word 方 (kata, “person”) which is genderless and even got a more polite tone (as Tomoyo always uses).

So a translation truer to the original would be “It’s for my most important person”.

Now, we all know who Tomoyo loves, so making her say “girl” isn’t really saying anything incorrect, but as I believe CLAMP characters are strenuous supporters of the “love regardless of gender” and fall in love with someone else for what they represent to them, not for what gender they are, I feel like the choice of kata should’ve been preserved in the translation too, to reflect more accurately CLAMP’s view. But it’s not a big deal.

And after this little side note, we continue with Sakura/Alice asking her where this person is now, to which “Tomoyo” replies “Somewhere” (not exactly “elsewhere” like in the ENG, because that would imply Tomoyo has got at least an idea of where this person is, while “somewhere” is a lot more vague), and here we have another slight translation difference:

Tomoyo, ENG: “But I know in my heart that she’ll come back someday...to wear the dress I made for her”

Tomoyo, JP: “but I firmly believe she’ll come back to me, wearing my dress (the dress I made for her)”

Why am I pointing this slight translation difference out? Because this is a recall to, lo and behold, none other than The Sealed Card movie, when Tomoyo told Sakura that it’s important that she always wears one of her dresses because that’s her prayer that Sakura will come back to her safe and sound, together with that dress. And this is what “Tomoyo” is saying here, too.

So, coming back to her wearing the dress, not to wear the dress.

“Tomoyo”, while saying so, takes Sakura/Alice’s hand and seemingly sews something unto the fabric of her costume, and we see some wind surrounding our Alice. Is some kind of magic at work?

Hard not to wonder about that, since we have, hehe, another recall to a scene we’ve already seen in chapter 61:

What does this mean? Did “Tomoyo” sew some kind of protection onto Sakura’s costume? Or did she simply put a spell that will change Sakura’s dress when that time will come (the meeting with MCF)?

We don’t know, as a giant kind of black bird (Shade) appears out of nowhere, and “Tomoyo” utters the last words she’ll tell to our Sakura/Alice:

Tomoyo, ENG: "Never forget...what matters the most"

Tomoyo, JP (literal): "Don't forget...the one thing you must absolutely not forget"

Why did I put this translation difference here? Because I think these two have a slight different meaning. The first one is pretty generic, while the second one seems to be hinting at something very specific. And here words are very important. You see, this Sakura doesn’t seem to know she’s Sakura at all. I believe she’s convinced she’s Alice. And so, I can easily infer the “something” Tomoyo is talking about is her identity. Never forget who you are. You are you, there’s only one of you, you’re unique, with your own story and baggage of experiences. Irreplaceable.

How many times I’ve been mentioning this as one of the major themes of Clear Card? I think we’re finally heading in the direction of making this message loud and clear for everyone.

Before moving onto the next scene, I just want to comment on how damn sweet this part with Tomoyo is.

The way she holds that piece of fabric? It melted my heart!!! It’s still unclear exactly what these Clear Cards featured here represent, if they’re maneuvered by someone else or they’re truly manifestation of the Cards, but it’s just amazing to see how Tomoyo’s strong feelings for Sakura translate perfectly onto this “version” of herself, born from Sakura’s power meddled with her memories and feelings for her.

Tomoyo’s love is so pure and sweet and unconditional, it’s a kind of higher love that I believe not everyone can feel. Since I know Tomoyo was missed for long time in the fandom, I find this scene a very important puzzle piece of the climax (she’s the one telling Sakura the most important truth!).

Moving forward, there’s a black mass engulfing and destroying everything in this world (why does this black mass reminds me of the black mass that springs from Akiho everytime she goes “berserk”…) and it’s in the middle of this mess of debris and black mass that Syaoran and Sakura get a glimpse of eachother…

Sakura/Alice calls him “Neko-san” (Mr. Cat - another proof she isn't herself) and, as Syaoran is about to approach Sakura, the ground under her cracks and she falls into the void, with Syaoran yelling her name, in a scene (hehe, once again, this is a reference-fest) that reminds us a lot about the one that happened in volume 6 of the old manga, when Sakura fell down a cliff and Syaoran yelled her name for the first time.

Luckily, Syaoran is quick enough to catch her hand, and.....what? Her hand? And he isn't being fried alive??? What is going on?

I'm telling you what is going on....

Here. I feel like if I put it like this, exactly the same way you can read it on Comic Days, you have a better idea of what's going on.

This is not THE SAME scene, but actually TWO scenes happening at the same time.

In the one on the left, Real Syaoran catches a fake Sakura that is revealed to actually be our poor, distraught Mirror (Sakura) Card, whom, with tears in her eyes, apologizes to Syaoran. On the right, we see Real Sakura being caught by what we can safely say is a “fake Syaoran”, since the real one is dealing with Mirror right now.

So probably, what happened here is that when Sakura and Syaoran "saw" eachother in that mess of black stuff, Syaoran actually saw a fake Sakura (and ran to her) while Sakura saw a fake Syaoran (and he "saved her"). The real Syaoran and Sakura never actually saw eachother.

A black mass engulfes Syaoran, the real one, and we do not know what happens to him afterwards. Was he taken somewhere else? Was he kicked out of this world? Hard to believe, with someone like Syaoran. If Kaito is behind this.....did he take him where he is? Will they talk? I have to say it's one of the scenes I look forward to in this finale.

Meanwhile, Sakura/Alice thanks the Cat, and he looks at her with a very intense stare. A black bird (once again, Shade) originates under them, and this "fake" Syaoran urges them to go, riding on this bird.

And this is how chapter 65 ends, leaving us with...how many? How many question marks on our heads?? 😂 Certainly it was a dream-like, oneiric chapter.

Among the comments I've read around, of course there's been a lot of "wow I didn't understand a damn thing" 😂, but also lots of comments about Tsubasa flashbacks (and so the consequent anxiety that ensues whenever TRC is involved).

But personally, I found this chapter a very endearing tribute to all that is Cardcaptor Sakura. The world Sakura is in right now not only serves someone's purpose, but will also turn out into an opportunity for our brave girl to learn something very important about herself. And I'm sure other characters will learn important, vital lessons too. And then all the references, allusions, hints, recalls of events already happened in all the 3 Arcs, but especially in this one....just like a puzzle of which you've seen the pieces separately before, and now the puzzle is coming together right in front of your eyes. I feel like this chapter is better grasped if you don't insist in reading it literally, but actually taking a step back from what we're seeing and trying to interpret what each scene might be referring to on an allegorical level. It's something I really like in stories and so I was excited while reading this chapter. Maybe in 10 days, re-reading it, I will realize a new key to interpreting things that I didn't see before. Or a new reference. I'm sure many of you will point out things I didn't notice, and I think that's the beauty of this chapter.

As this is tangled with someone else's dream, we have to remember how dreams "behave". Not everything is linear and not everything makes sense immediately. And so, I believe the characters appearing in this chapter are in some moments acting in Sakura's interest, and in some others are influenced by the owner of the dream. The distinction between the two behaviors isn't clear at all, as it should be. I have the theory that Momo might be pulling the strings of many events that are happening in this chapter, softly trying to steer everything in the direction she wants, without tipping Kaito off too much.

On another note, I hope all those who were racking their brains in search for a purpose for the latest Clear Cards, which didn't seem clear at all (no pun intended 😂), are now satisfied. As I've been telling often: the Clear Cards of this Arc do not have the same function the Clow/Sakura Cards had before. You need to detach yourself from that concept to enjoy it fully. They started as the manifestation of Sakura's rampant powers out of control, they were created by accident by Sakura herself, they weren't created with a project in mind like Clow did. And in fact, along the serialization, their shape changed, starting to feature Sakura's loved ones and representing more and more abstract concepts: their purpose is more conceptual than to really help Sakura with a particular skill like flying or moving objects. They're there to remind Sakura who she is. And as it often happens, our loved ones are the ones who can remind us of who we are, when we need it. This is exactly what the human Cards featured in this chapter did. They're trying to guide Sakura so she doesn't lose herself into this Wonderland that is so fantastical, but can also become her prison. Since the Cards representing Sakura's family and Syaoran didn't appear yet, I think we'll be in for more intimate, emotional moments where Sakura will remember who she is precisely thanks to them.

But this story is made up of Two Alice, and so I have to wonder where is Akiho right now, what is she seeing? Probably.....a nice town called Tomoeda, where she's got lots of friends and a family that loves her dearly....? Yeah, the perfect life Kaito wanted to give her. But fear not. As I believe the Two Alice will have to wake up from their dreams together, I'm absolutely positive Akiho will miss Kaito's and Momo's (and Sakura's too!) presence regardless of how happy she might be in the dream she's living now. Because our loved ones are unique and no one can replace them. And when we're talking about our most important person....all the more. Just imagine Kaito's face, doing all of this for Akiho's sake, when she'll destroy it to go back to him. I am anticipating that moment so much.

Well, this month we didn't have major translation mistakes (thankfully, as half the chapter is without dialogues!) and I hope we can continue on this path. The climax is important and as you can see, it can get pretty confusing even without translation mistakes.

I have to unfortunately announce that Clear Card will take a break from next issue of Nakayoshi (contrarily to what I initially announced on my Twitter, but I swear Comic Days still says next chapter is on August 31st), so chapter 66 will come back on these dates:

September 30th, on Bookwalker (digital, ENG) October 1st, on Clamp-fans and Comic-days (digital, JP and other languages) October 3rd, on Nakayoshi (paper and digital, JP)

I know, it'll be hard to wait for next chapter when we've reached such an important part of the story 😭, but every summer CLAMP take their deserved vacation, so it was kinda expected (I was so surprised to see from Comic Days that there wasn't a break, I should've known). It might actually be the last break we'll have for this series.

Let me know what you think about this chapter and if you noticed something I didn't see before!! See you at the end of September!!

#cardcaptor sakura #card captor sakura #clear card arc #ccsakura #sakura card captor #ccs spoilers #chapter 65 #translation differences

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secondlina · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering. How do you resist the urge to redraw old pages of Namesake? I am working on a webcomic and struggling not to redraw the old pages. They are comparatively Not Good compared to the most recent one and it is driving me a bit crazy.

Dear @sylvanbrushes

I don’t redraw my pages for a few reasons.

(1) If i’m drawing Namesake for a trillion years, I cannot draw other things, and while I love Namesake, it’s not the only story I have to tell.

(2) While some edits to get the book ready for print are a-ok, I discourage redraws because like - current you is always better then past you, BUT future you will also be better then current you. And current you could not have improved without past you fucking up a bit and trying. The first step to being good at something is sucking at something. If you start redrawing, you are basically constantly competing with yourself, and that’s an awful dynamic to live with. I used to think my art peaked at chapter 20, and now that I’m on chapter 32, chapter 20 looks like ASS to me. It’s never-ending

(3) Serials are about evolution, if a reader wants a consistent story, they can read a graphic novel.

(4) I’ve learned to enjoy and appreciate the mistakes of the past, as they are the foundation that had to exist for my comic to even grow to it’s current point.

(5) REDRAWING IS ACTUALLY REALLY HARD and kills the initial charm of the story. Because it’s NOT just redoing the art. The paneling is also going to be less strong. And the text. And the colors. And recapturing the initial charm of the original page is very difficult. Any new page you make to replace it is going to look more beautiful, but it’s not going to feel the same. A lot of readers got attached to the older art too - anytime I change a cover, everybody tells me to put the old one back.

(6) You don’t actually need the comic to look nice. Most people will read stuff that looks like butts if the story is good and the art is communicative. You mainly need good art for marketing, and you can just draw marketing art specifically for that.

(7) The only person who cares about the original art looking bad is yourself, because you are comparing yourself to others and how their art fucking slapped already on chapter 1, but those guys also feel like their chapter 1 sucks. Nobody is happy with chapter 1. Moving on is for the best.

(8) If anybody refuses to read a story because of the art, it happens and that’s fine. It happens if the art is amazing too. It’s about vibes. If anybody refuses to read a story because of the art and TELLS you, they are a dipship trying to hurt your feelings and can go straight to hell.

#sylvanbrushes

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alluringjae · 4 years ago

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until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

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idrellegames · 3 years ago

Note

So I had a coding question that I've been trying to find the answer for, for a while. I've tried searching up information online and such but haven't been able to find anything.

I was wondering though how exactly someone would go about creating a main menu screen with the whole being able to create a new game, load one or change the settings? Like I said I've tried searching it up but haven't been able to find anything except for information on creating a transition screen.

You’re going to need an understanding of CSS for this, but I’ll do my best to walk you through it, alongside some basic functions of the UIBar and UI APIs. Also, like pretty much anything to do with coding, there is more than one way to do something (and there may be a more efficient/effective way than mine).

Like all of my tutorials, this is written for SugarCube 2.34.1. Since this one mainly deals with CSS, I’m sure you could adapt it to another format, but I’m not familiar enough with Harlowe, Snowman and Chapbook to add specifics.

Additionally, I use the Twine 2 editor version 2.2.1. This tutorial can be used with later versions; some of my example images may look not look exactly like what you have because later versions of the editor launch test files in your default browser (the 2.2.1 version creates its own mini-browser).

Making a Main Menu Page

Step 1: Hiding the UI Bar

If you want a clear main menu page without the UI bar, you can hide it in several ways.

<<run UIBar.destroy();>>

This will remove the UI bar completely from your game. Not recommended unless you have an alternative way of adding access to the Save, Settings and Restart functions.

<<run UIBar.stow();>>

This stows the UI bar. It will still be partially visible on the side and the player can interact with it to open it. The UI bar can be unstowed manually (without needing the player to do it themselves) on the next passage with:

<<run UIBar.unstow();>>

If you don’t want the UI bar to show up on your main menu, but you want to have access to it later, you can use:

<<run UIBar.hide();>>

To bring it back, you will have to use the following on the passage where you want the player to have access to it.

<<UIBar.show();>>

You may want to use the stow/hide and unstow/show functions together. Hiding the UI bar only makes it invisible; it will still take up space on the left-hand side of your game. Stowing and hiding it makes it a little more even.

To use them together, you can do this:

On the passage you don’t want the UI bar:

<<run UIBar.stow();>><<run UIBar.hide();>>

On the passage you where you want to restore the UI bar:

<<run UIBar.unstow();>><<run UIBar.show();>>

TIP 1: Using <<run UIBar.stow (true)>> gets rid of the slide animation as the UI bar collapses/restores, so you may want to use this so you don’t have any weird animations when you menu passage loads.

TIP 2: If you main menu is the first passage of your game, you can run the scripts for storing and hiding the UI bar in your StoryInit passage and it will run it when your game loads.

TIP 3: You can also use the Config API to have the menu bar be stowed automatically when your game starts.

Pop this code into your Javascript:

Config.ui.stowBarInitially = true;

However, if you have any links that navigate back to the main menu without restarting the game, the UI bar will be in whatever state the player left it in last. If you can only access the main menu by launching the game or hitting restart, don't worry about this.

If you want to double-check the SugarCube documentation for these functions, see here.

Step 2: Tagged Stylesheets

If you want to create a menu page that has a different appearance to your game’s default look, you can do so by using a tagged stylesheets. When using a tagged stylesheet, every passage with the same tag will have its appearance overridden to match what you’ve adjusted in your Story Stylesheet.

Let’s make one called main-menu. You can tag passages like so:

You can also tag the passage a different colour to make it special passages like this one stand out.

Step 3: Adding CSS

Now that the passage is tagged, you need to add a new CSS class to your stylesheet to change its appearance.

To change the appearance, you need to decide which selectors to target and what about them you want to change. Every default SugarCube game has the same set of selectors (you can find them here in the documentation). The most important ones are:

body – the body of the page. You can use this to change the foreground and background colours.

.passages – the element that contains your game’s main text. This is where you can change things like the colour that displays behind your game’s text, the font family, line height, letter spacing, all that stuff.

For the sake of this example, I am going to use the default SugarCube stylesheet and edit it from the ground up. You can find the code for SugarCube’s built-in stylesheets here.

In your stylesheet, you will want to use the tag you created earlier as the new class name.

.main-menu

Put this with the selectors you are going to change.

Let’s start with the body.

body.main-menu { color: #fff; background-color: #000; overflow: auto; }

The color property controls the colour of the font. Here I’ve set it to the hex code #fff and the background-color #000.

So now I have a black page when I start the main menu passage, and thanks to the code for the UI bar I put in earlier, the UI bar is gone.

Adding a Background

Now, we might want to spice up the background with an image to make it more interesting.

To add an image to the background, you need to use the background-image property.

body.main-menu { color: #fff; background-color: #000; background-image: url("images/main-menu.jpg"); background-attachment: fixed; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: cover; -webkit-background-size: cover; -moz-background-size: cover; -o-background-size: cover; background-position: center center; overflow: auto; }

You can read more about the different background properties and what they do here on W3Schools, but the code above will center your background image in the middle of the page and also make sure that it covers the entire container.

IMPORTANT: If you intend to upload your game as a ZIP file containing a .index HTML file (this is recommended if you have a lot of image assets or don’t want to link to an outside host, like imgur), you will need to use relative paths with any image URLs in your game.

Relative paths mean that the file is relative to the directory it’s in. In the example above, you can see that the background URL is "images/main-menu.jpg". This means that when the file is uploaded to itch.io, it will find the file—main-menu.jpg—inside the images folder, regardless of where the images folder is located.

For reference, this is what my game assets folder looks like for Wayfarer:

Relative paths are different than an absolute path, which begins with the drive letter. For example, the main-menu.png may be stored on my personal computer in a path like this one: C:/game/images/main-menu.jpg.

If I use this absolute path in the game, the image asset will not show up for players once it’s uploaded to itch because the image is not hosted on the player’s device in C:/game/images/main-menu.jpg.

This can cause some finnicky issues with the Twine 2 editor because the editor cannot find and display images from relative paths (unless you’ve put the editor in the same directory as the one you’re storing your assets in; I haven’t bothered to try this, so I’m not sure).

While working on your game in the Twine editor, you may need to use an absolute path to see what your asset looks like while you're editing. When it comes time to publish, make sure you switch it back to a relative path, otherwise the image will not load for players.

Step 4: Adding & Styling Links

Now that we have a background, we’ll want to tackle the links themselves.

Adding Links

You can link to the starting passage of your game using your preferred method—the [[ ]] link markup, the <<link>> macro, etc.

But for Saves and Settings (and also a Resume Game link, if you’re using the autosave feature), you’ll need to manually call the functions for accessing those dialogs. You can do that with this code here:

This will add a Load Game link that opens the Saves dialog when clicked.

<<link 'LOAD GAME'>><<run UI.saves();>><</link>>

This will add a Settings link that opens the Settings dialog when clicked.

<<link 'SETTINGS'>><<run UI.settings();>><</link>>

This will add a Resume Game link that loads the player’s last autosave.

<<link 'RESUME GAME'>><<run Save.autosave.load()>><</link>>

TIP: To enable autosaves on your game, add this code to your Story Javascript:

Config.saves.autosave = true;

This will autosave on every passage.

Config.saves.autosave = ["bookmark", "autosave"];

This will autosave on passages tagged bookmark or autosave.

Styling Your Game Title & Links

So this is where you can get get fancy with your CSS. For now, we’re going to keep everything within the .passage element (which is where any text inputting into the editor goes), but I will show you how to move the links and title to wherever you want further down.

Importing Fonts

First, go font shopping.

Google fonts has a very large library of free-to-use fonts that you can import directly into your game via your Story Stylesheet. After you browser Google fonts for the fonts you want to use, scroll down to the Use on Web section and click @import. Google will automatically generate the code you need to import the fonts you want to use.

Ignore the <style> </style> and copy everything else inside it and paste it in the top of your Story Stylesheet.

For this example, mine looks like this:

@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Almendra+Display&family=Nova+Cut&display=swap');

TIP: If you are importing fonts that a bold weight and italics available and intend to use bold and italics, make sure you import the bold weight and the italic versions of the font as well as the regular one. This will stop your fonts from having weird printing issues when you use bold and italics (especially on non-Chromium browsers like Firefox).

Below the import button, Google will show you the CSS rules for each font family. Keep these in mind, you’ll need them later. Mine, for this example, are like this:

font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive; font-family: 'Nova Cut', cursive;

Basic Styling

In your stylesheet, you’ll want to target the .passage element with the .main-menu class.

.passage.main-menu { background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Nova Cut', cursive; font-size: 3.5em; text-align: center; }

Make sure there isn’t a space between .passage and .main-menu, otherwise it won’t work!

Here, I’ve changed a few properties.

font-family – this changes the font to Nova Cut

font-size – this changes the font size. I’ve used the unit em, which is relative to the element size (you can read more about CSS Units here)

text-align – this centers the text to the middle of the .passage element

I have also added:

background-color: transparent;

This makes the passage background transparent so you can see the background image. This is only necessary if you’ve added a background-color to your default passages.

Now, for the links.

Links have their own separate selector.

a means is the link as it usually displays

a:hover is the link when the player hovers their cursor over it.

It's generally a good idea to use different colours on the links—one for the normal display, one for the hover—so the player can visually see that they are hovering over a clickable link. If you don't want to use different colours, you should consider using some other visual cue to make that differentiation.

.passage.main-menu a { font-family: 'Nova Cut', cursive; color: #C57C25; text-decoration: none; }

.passage.main-menu a:hover { font-family: 'Nova Cut', cursive; color: #dcb07c; text-decoration: none; }

I’ve added an additional property here:

text-decoration: none.

This gets rid of the underline that happens on all default links in the default SugarCube stylesheet. Currently, this only targets the links on passages tagged main-menu; if you want to get rid of the text-decoration on all links, you can change the styling of your links like so:

a:hover { text-decoration: none; }

Choosing Colours

If you’re not sure where to start when it comes to picking hex codes, color-hex.com is a really helpful site. It gives you related tints and shades of for every hex code, which makes it a lot easier to find colours that are slightly darker or slightly lighter than your base hex code.

For choosing colours initially, there are plenty of hex code colour palette generators available online. One of my favourites is the one on Canva, which lets you upload an image and then it creates a colour palette from there. You might not want to use the exact colours it pulls, but checking the colours on color-hex can help you narrow down something that works for your aesthetics.

This is what our template now looks like:

Giving the Title a Unique Style

Right now, the title is styled by the .passage.main-menu selector and it’s default font size and font type is the same as the links below it.

If you want to style it differently, you can make a new class for it. In this case, I’m going to drop the .passage.main-menu and make a class called .game-title.

.game-title { font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive; color: #ca893a; line-height: 1.0; font-size: 1.8em; text-shadow: 1px 1px #dcb07c; }

Because the font I selected didn’t come with a bold version, I cheated a bit a used the text-shadow property to bulk it up. I also had to adjust the line height. SugarCube’s default .passage styling gives everything a line height of 1.75 and there was too much space once the new font family and font size were applied.

To add this styling to your title, go into your main menu passage and wrap your game’s title in a span, like so:

<span class="game-title">GENERIC FANTASY GAME</span>

It now appears like this:

TIP: If you want to play around with your appearance, you can use your browser’s Inspect tool to see the page’s CSS and play around/edit it. Either right click and hit Inspect or hit CTRL + SHIFT + I to open the Inspect tool. Once opened, you can go in and adjust things. If you make and a change and like it, remember to copy the code over to your stylesheet before you close the inspect tool.

Placing a Title & Links Outside the .passage element

If you want your game title and menu links to be elsewhere on the page, you’re going to need re-write some of your CSS and add some additional CSS.

The first thing is that you’ll want to remove the styling from .passage.main-menu. I’ve left background-color to transparent, but you’re not going to be using this to style your game title and menu links.

.passage.main-menu { background-color: transparent; }

For the title:

I’ve created two elements, one called .main-title and one called .main-title-item.

.main-title creates a container that will hold the title. This is what I use to tell it where on the page to appear.

.main-title { display: block; justify-content: space-evenly; position: absolute; top: 10%; left: 4%; }

.main-title-item styles the actual text.

.main-title-item { font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: normal; font-size: 6.5em; line-height: 1.0; text-align: left; color: #cf944d; text-shadow: 1px 1px #cf944d; }

To apply this to the game title, go back to the main menu passage and apply your new elements to the game’s title:

<div class="main-title"><span class="main-title-item">GENERIC FANTASY GAME</span></div>

For the menu links:

Here, we’ll do something really similar—a container to hold the links and a separate element to style them.

.subtitle { display: block; flex-wrap: wrap; flex-direction: column; width: 60%; justify-content: space-evenly; position: absolute; top: 46%; left: 8%; }

.subtitle-item a { font-family: 'Nova Cut', cursive; font-weight: normal; font-size: 3.5em; text-align: left; color: #cf944d; line-height: 1.3em; }

.subtitle-item a:hover { font-family: 'Nova Cut', cursive; font-weight: normal; font-size: 3.5em; text-align: left; color: #dcb07c; text-decoration: none; }

Go back to your main menu passage and apply the elements. Because all of the menu links will be in the same box, you only need to open/close the .subtitle element once.

If you want to change where the title and menu links appear, you can use the Inspect tool to figure out different percentages and spacing until you find something that works for you.

There are a lot more things you can add (like animations that appear when you hover your cursor on the link), but I’ll leave it there for now.

Additionally, if you intend to make your game mobile compatible, you’ll want to read up on media queries and learn how to adjust font sizes and any other units of measurement for different viewports. This is how you shrink things appropriate to fit on small screens.

I hope this helps! If you have any questions, please let me know. I’m still a newbie at CSS (so I’m sure there are ways of doing things more effectively), but these are some of the things that I have helped me along the way.

#coding in twine #coding help #twine #twine game #interactive fiction #resources #answered #long post

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wavesmp3 · 4 years ago

Text

before sunrise

kevin moon x reader - strangers to lovers au, fluff - based off the movie before sunrise - wc. 9.4k - warnings: mentions of alcohol, lots of dialogue, cursing, and a few attempts at comedy

synopsis → You and Kevin Moon only have one night together before his flight leaves the next morning. And before meeting Kevin, you never would’ve believed that one night is long enough to fall in love with someone.

The train rattles on and on, a blur of colors painted beyond the small window you rest your head against. A headache is forming, between your ears and behind your eyes, a small thrumming that’ll make the rest of this train ride unbearable if you don’t end whatever’s causing it. Except you don’t know whether to blame the rattling train or the lovers' quarrel from the couple sitting across from you.

You make another attempt to ignore the rattling and the arguing, holding your book closer to your face and starting the same paragraph you’ve been on since boarding the train. The effort does little to help on either account. You sigh, loudly, in the hopes that your annoyance stings the ears of the couple next to you. It does not. So you get up, gather your things, and move further down the car.

You settle into a new seat, the couple’s argument still audible but less intruding than it had been when you were sitting right beside them. You open your book to restart the same paragraph when someone interrupts you. Again.

“Hey, do you have any idea what those two are fighting about?”

You look up from between the pages, lifting your eyes to meet those of the person who spoke to you without lowering the book itself. You stare at him, taken aback almost, by asymmetry of the smile he’s directed towards you and how charmed you are by it. You swallow.

“Oh, sorry,” his body caves inwards, scratching a spot behind his neck, “do you speak English?”

You nod, too eagerly. “Yeah, no, I speak English. Just no clue what they’re arguing about.” You lower the book, folding in the page you’ve yet to move on from and leaning forward in your seat, just enough to catch sight of the couple whose voices get louder with each passing moment. “My German is not very good.”

“Ah,” the boy mutters, his pitch-black hair falling in front of his eyes, “that’s what that is.” He turns back to you, looks at you expectantly almost, then awkwardly laughs sitting back in his chair. He gestures to your book. “I’ll let you get back to it. Sorry to bother.”

And you’re about to tell him it’s fine, that you don’t mind the small talk, when you notice the book laying in his lap and the finger he has shoved between the pages to mark his spot. And the words sort of fall back down your throat once you do.

You return to your book, not even bothering to start the paragraph for what feels like the thousandth time. Instead, you stare at the printed page, passively listening to the heated German flying between the couple and thinking about the boy sitting across the aisle from you.

The couple stands up suddenly, dramatic enough to make half the car look up at them. One of them makes their way down the aisle in your direction, walking hurriedly and shrugging off the hand their partner places on their arm, as if they could not get way fast enough. You look towards the boy across from you with a raised brow. He makes a face at you, lifting his shoulders and shaking his head. You bite back a laugh, eyes following the couple as they exit the car. The sliding door opens with a whoosh and closes, their absence swallowing the car in silence.

“What are you reading?” The guy asks, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose.

You hold up the cover of your book for him to see. “You?”

He looks down at his lap, pursing his lips and chuckling a bit, hesitating, as if he wasn’t expecting you to return the question. He holds up the book.

“Series of unfortunate events?” You murmur, recognizing the cover.

“In my defense, I’m rereading it.”

“No judgement.” You tell him, lifting up your hands in surrender. “I read it when I was young as well.”

“It’s a good series, right?” You nod. “Thank you.” He huffs, resting his back against the train seat.

“Although, I’m not sure if it’s good enough to reread. Not sure I get why people reread anything, actually. I mean there are so many books out there, why bother rereading one you’ve already read?”

He shrugs at that, tilting his head and gaze fixed on the book. “Nostalgia, I guess.”

You accept the answer with a nod. The couple returns then, and the clamor of their argument returns with them. You both watch as they pass by your seats.

“Hey,” the guy begins again, sitting up in his seat and shifting his body until he’s in the aisle seat instead of the one by the window, “I was thinking of going to the lounge car. Would you wanna come with?”

“Yeah, sure.” You lean towards him. “Why not?”

—

“I’m Kevin Moon by the way.” He says once you’re both seated, extending his hand. You take it; give him your name. And there’s a draft that runs through the lounge car when he repeats it to himself. “So are you coming from Copenhagen too?”

“Yeah, I was visiting some family there?”

He nods. “And how are they?”

You laugh, giggle really, awkwardly despite the faux intimacy of his question. Nodding, you answer: “They’re great. Well—great is a bit much. Content, perhaps?”

“Content sounds good.”

“So where are you getting off?”

“Amsterdam.”

“What’s in Amsterdam?”

“No clue.” You laugh at the response, or maybe it’s at the quirk of his brow and the nervous tapping against his knee. “I have a flight out of there tomorrow morning. So I was thinking I’d explore the city some, attempt to experience all of Amsterdam in one night.”

“Yeah, and where are you flying to?”

“Back home.”

“Let me guess,” you start, a teasing lilt in your voice, “America?”

“Canada, actually.” He proudly corrects. “Where are you from?”

“All over.” You gesture around vaguely. “Moved around a lot growing up. And now I’m in Paris.”

“Is that where you’re getting off?” He asks, leaning forward. You nod. “Why Paris?”

“University.”

“Oh,” he looks shocked, “which one?”

“Would you even know it if I said?”

His mouth parts, eyes darting around somewhere above your head. “Yeah, probably not.”

“What about you?” You ask once your laughter has died down. “Still in school?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “Gosh, no. School was never really for me.”

“Why not?”

“I-“ he falters, tilting his head back at the question, “well, why are you still in school?”

“No real reason.” You plan to leave it at that, but when you look up at him, keenly waiting for you to continue, some part of you wants to elaborate on it as well. “Sort of like I’m not sure what I’d do with myself once I finish.”

“I feel that.”

“You feel that?” You echo, a laugh dancing under the question.

“Yeah.” He answers sincerely, eyes fixated on you and surprisingly serious. “I do.”

“Oh,” you blurt, taken aback by how genuinely he means it.

The waiter appears then, handing you menus and taking your orders after.

“So of all the places you’ve lived, which one felt the most like home?”

You think over the question, tongue poking at the inside of your cheek. “Maybe Copenhagen. I have the most family there.” You add as a half-hearted explanation. “But I don’t know, I guess no place has felt much like home yet.”

“Not even Paris?”

You shake your head. “There’s this quote that goes: what is a home if not the first place you learn to run from.”

“So is that what Paris is?” He asks, resting his head against his hand. “The place you ran to?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

There’s a beat of silence, somehow you spend the entirety of it starting at Kevin. “You seem to be very well read.” He says finally, looking away first and folding a napkin over his lap.

“It’s just one quote.”

“One more than me.”

“Maybe if you stopped rereading ‘the series of unfortunate events’, we’d be on even footing.”

He gasps. “You said ‘no judgement’.”

“It’s called being polite.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “So how about you? Were you just visiting Copenhagen, or…?”

“No, I’ve done the whole tour. Started in Madrid, hit Paris, Rome, Vienna, Budapest, Berlin, London, Athens, Prague, Florence, Lisbon… you know, all the big ones.”

“I hope not in that order.”

He laughs brightly. “No, not in that order. Thanks for the vote of confidence though.”

“Of course.”

“But, yeah, I bought the Eurail Pass a while back and decided I would see as much as I could.”

“How long have you been here?”

“About a month and a half now.”

“Wow. And just for a holiday or?”

“Yeah, well,” his face turns down, a cloud passing across the sun and casting a shadow over the table, “I had a friend in Madrid, but, uh, mainly—yeah, mainly vacation.”

You don’t prod any further, nodding at his half-baked answer.

“But what I’ve come to realize,” he continues on, “during these past few weeks, is that there’s something special about just sitting on a train and staring out the window.”

“What’s special about it?”

“For starters,” he gestures to the rolling green hills outside the window, “it’s beautiful. But also, I get these ideas while sitting here.”

“What sorts of ideas?”

“Like,” he hesitates, leaning back towards you, “well it’s gonna sound dumb to say outloud.”

You watch him carefully. The asymmetrical smile that you first noticed appearing on his lips again. And maybe that’s what makes you lean towards him and say,

“Try me.”

—

“Hey,” you push away your now empty plate and tap on the window as the train rolls to a stop, “isn’t this Amsterdam?”

“Oh yeah,” Kevin checks his watch, “it is. I guess I lost track of time sitting here.” You check the time yourself and realize it’s been over two hours.

“Well for what it’s worth, I really enjoyed talking with you,” you tell him, shifting in the seat.

He returns the sentiment, and you both continue to go back and forth until the train does actually stop, a loud whistle traveling through the lounge car.

“Well, this is me.” He says softly, sucking in his bottom lip.

You extend out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Kevin Moon.”

He shakes it. “Nice to meet you too.”

You watch him go, lugging a duffle bag by his hip and pulling a pink beanie over his hair. And once the door to the lounge car closes swiftly behind him, you slump into the chair resting your head against the window and scanning the group of people on the platform outside of it. Maybe, you think to yourself, I’ll catch him leaving.

“Okay, I have a crazy idea.”

You jump at the sound of his breathless voice, jolting up in your seat. “Kevin, what are yo—”

“Blow off Paris for one more night.”

“What?”

“Just—like I know this is crazy—but just listen for a second.” He tosses his duffle bag into the seat that was occupied by him a minute ago and places both his hands on the table, leaning down slightly. An action that leaves no room for you to think he’s joking. “My flight only leaves tomorrow morning, and I was planning on wasting time in Amsterdam until then. So come with me, let’s hang out for the night, and you can catch the first train back to Paris. I haven’t had a conversation like the one we just had in so long, and I don’t really want to say bye yet. So, let’s just see where this goes. And if it sucks or if you realize you hate me, then you leave, and we part ways just like that. No strings, no obligations.” He pauses there, chewing on his bottom lip and fingers curling around the edge of the table.

And for some reason, after his whole speech, you find yourself thinking about the arguing couple from the other car.

You grab your things. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Come on,” a grin fights its way onto your face, excitement teetering in every part of your body, “let’s go.”

And some small of part of you that’s hanging onto reason knows this is a terrible idea, a reckless and stupid idea that you would chide the protagonist of a horror movie for. But another part of you, the same part that can’t get over Kevin’s asymmetrical smile and the same part that said yes when he asked if you wanted to go to the lounge car, is too enthralled with the idea of continuing whatever this is to say no.

So this time when Kevin leaves, you don’t watch him go; instead, you follow him off of the train.

—

You’ve been to Amsterdam before, once on a holiday with your family that you can barely remember and again on a school trip when you were much younger. But despite the two times you’ve been to this city, walking beside the street and admiring the brightly painted buildings with Kevin feels like a first.

And after seven minutes of mindlessly walking around Amsterdam with a complete stranger, the reality of your earlier choice strikes you like a burst of wind across the cheek. The exhilaration that compelled you to get off the train withering away with each step. Not a word has passed between either of you since agreeing to Kevin’s plan.

“This is,” you start, voice hoarse and hiding a shy laugh behind your palm. “This is weird.”

“No, yeah, it’s awkward, right?” Kevin smiles, scratching a part of his neck. “Do you…” he shoves his fists into the pockets of his coat, “do you regret getting off the train with me?” He laughs after he asks the question, as if he’s embarrassed to even bring it up.

“No,” you tell him honestly, scuffing your shoes against the pavement and avoiding looking at him. “Not yet.”

In a corner of your vision, you see him nod, then smile. The asymmetrical one that first caught your attention. And in that moment, a tiny spark of exhilaration returns.

—

You and Kevin find yourselves in an art museum. The first activity you could find to fill in all the awkward silences. You take turns acting as guides explaining the curation of each piece of art. A suggestion that you had made and then come to regret when Kevin tries to argue that a modern sculpture of sunflowers is actually just the Shrek movies reimagined.

“And see that part,” he says animatedly, pointing at a corner of the piece, “is actually depicting that once scene in the beginning of Shrek 2 when—”

You just laugh, shoving his arm playfully and wandering on to the next piece.

“Hey,” Kevin calls from further along the wall, “come look at this one.”

“So, what is this one about?” You tease, meeting him beside the art piece. “Ice Age or Monsters Inc?”

“No bullshit explanation this time, actually.” He mumbles, eyes trained on the art still. “I really like this one.”

You take a moment to study the painting, done by an impressionist artist according to the blurb beside it. The piece depicts a whole bunch of couples dancing on a street.

“I like how the background is all a blur.” Kevin says. “As if each of the couples are so occupied with themselves that everything else sort of fades.”

“I think my favorite part,” you start, taking a step towards the painting, “is how the girl in this pair and the guy in this one are painted like their fading. Makes me feel like they aren’t real; like they’re a dream or a memory.”

“Or a ghost.”

“Yeah,” you smile at the thought, “or a ghost.”

Kevin leans down to read about the piece. “It’s called ‘Lovers Embrace’”

“I like it.” You declare, thinking over how fitting the title is.

He straightens back up, smiling. “Me too.”

—

The art museum is effective in easing the awkwardness between you and Kevin, acting as a distraction from the insanity of the current circumstances and your belated recognition of it, so that now, while meandering about a record shop he found, conversation flows as easily as it did in the lounge car. And when you realize that, another bit of your exhilaration returns, bursting within your chest and fluttering against your gut.

“I have an idea.” Kevin announces as you finger through a section of records.

“Another one?” You deadpan.

He flicks your arm, continuing, “We both pick a record to listen to. And then a random, third one for good measure.”

“How are we picking the third one?”

He hums in thought, drumming his fingers against the shelf. “Okay, I got it. Close your eyes.”

You point a finger at yourself. “Me?”

He squints at you, dramatically looking side to side and bringing the emptiness of this portion of the store to your attention. “Who else?”

“Fine but--”

“Just close them.”

With a long sigh, you do.

“Okay,” Kevin murmurs, spinning you around by the shoulders. He jerks you to a stop. “Now choose a record.” You push your hand out, feeling around for the nearest rack of records. “No, that’s boring.” He complains. “You have to walk around a little bit.”

“You know, we could’ve avoided this if you just chose the random record instead of me.” You huff at him, slowly walking around with your eyes still closed as per Kevin’s request.

“Watch out,” he warns, ignoring your comment, “you’re about to hit a stand.”

Eventually, you walk far enough from the place you started at. Blindly reaching out to the rack, you chose a record that feels the most worn around the edges. You open your eyes, blinking, and are about to read the cover when Kevin stops you suggesting you both wait until you’re in the listening booth. You agree, parting ways to pick your own record to listen to.

After a few minutes of browsing the store, you meet with Kevin outside of the listening booth, two records under your arm.

“Play yours first.” Kevin says, stepping into the booth with you. You pull the record out of its sleeve and place it in position.

Moon river, wider than a mile

“Ah,” he sighs, as the song begins to play, “I love this song.”

I’m crossing you in style someday

You swallow back a smile and mutter a small ‘me too’.

Wherever you’re going, I’m going your way. Two drifters off to see the world

“Kind of fitting, isn’t it?” He asks, laughing lightly and knocking his head back against the wall of the booth.

“Part of the reason I chose it.” You explain, turning your head towards him just in time to catch his eyes fluttering shut. An action that sends a familiar burst of exhilaration running heavily over your chest. He looks at peace like this, you think, his gold frames resting on the middle of his nose and a tuft of black hair slipping out from under his beanie. It’s only when the song ends, the repeated skipping of the needle replacing Sinatra’s voice, do you realize you’ve spent the entirety of it staring at Kevin. His eyes snap open at that moment; you’re quick to look away, busying yourself with the drawstring of your bag and ignoring the warmth that fills your body.

Kevin removes your record and fixes the one he chose in place. The song starts on a familiar chord.

Kelly, can you handle this?

You shoot him a look, just barely holding your laughter in.

“I know. Totally different vibe from ‘Moon River’ but this is the only Beyoncé song I could find.”

I don’t think they can handle this.

You start singing along. Kevin joins, dancing along as well despite how small the booth is. And when he starts twerking, you spend the last two minutes of the song laughing in shock.

The song ends, after Kevin declares his love for Beyoncé. You hand the Destiny’s Child record back to Kevin and pull the final, random record out of its sleeve and set it in place.

“How’s your Italian?” Kevin asks, as you straighten back up waiting for the song to play.

“No better than my German. Why?” He flips the vinyl’s cover around to show you. “Il Mondo by Jimmy Fontana,” you mutter as the first note rings throughout the booth.

No stanotte amore non ho più pensato a te

Kevin finds the translation online, scooting closer until the side of his arm is pressed against yours, phone tilted so that you can see. You lean in to better read the lyrics.

Gira, il mondo gira, nello spazio senza fine Turning, the world’s turning, in a space without end

Your eyes catch Kevin’s for the briefest of moments before he looks away, quickly refocusing his gaze on the opposite side of the booth.

Con gli amori appena nati, con gli amori già finiti With the lovers just now starting, with the lovers already parting

You don’t return to the lyrics, instead watching as his focus ping pongs between the phone screen and the wall.

Con la gioia e col dolore della gente come me With the joy and with the hurt of the people like me

His eyes flit over to your face. You look down, pretending to read the lyrics, swallowing.

Il mondo The world

And from a corner of your vision, you can see him watching you, can feel his eyes on you. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore how good it feels to know he’s staring.

Soltanto adesso io ti guardo, nel tuo silenzio io mi perdo Just now I see you, in your silence I lose myself

There’s a jerk of movement from Kevin. But the second you angle your head towards him, he tilts his chin up, smiling at the ceiling and tongue running over his teeth. You stare at him and consider for a moment: tearing your eyes off him, turning your head down again, and pretending to read the lyrics. But as quickly as the thought comes, it passes. And you find it impossible to care that he knows you’re staring, figuring that it’d be just as impossible to make yourself look away.

E sono niente accanto a te I am nothing beside you

His chin falls at the line, dark brown eyes dancing around the room before landing on yours. And this time, you don’t look away. There’s a sharp inhale. A loud gulp. The slightest turn of your body and an even smaller glance at the curve of his lips. His fingers flex, knocking against your knuckles, lingering for too long to be accidental. And it’s like time stops at that moment, like all the clocks in the world cease to tick, making you and Kevin halt as well, standing still, unmoving, staring at each other as if you hadn’t spent the past minute avoiding each other’s eyes.

And you swear, if the music hadn’t stopped, the scratching needle cutting into the air, you would’ve fell in love with Kevin right then.

—

“A piano,” you point out as you and Kevin are about to leave from the record shop. You go to it, admiring the dark brown wood and fingers ghosting over the ivory keys.

“Do you know how to play?” Kevin joins you in the corner of the shop that houses the piano.

“Gosh, no.” You pause, your middle finger hovering over a black key and tilt your head towards him. “Do you?”

He nods, taking a seat on the bench and patting the spot beside him for you. He starts playing a song you don’t recognize but one that manages to sound vaguely familiar anyways. Like it was playing in the background of a movie you can no longer remember the name of, or like you met the song in a dream and memorized the melody in your sleep before waking up the next morning.

And maybe it’s because you know this song without having ever heard it before or maybe it’s because the chords have been sitting in your soul every night since that forgotten dream but something about the song and something about this moment, makes you scoot closer to Kevin and rest your head against his shoulder.

He stops, barely, for the tiniest of seconds, fingers hesitating above the next key, then continues a breath later. And sometime between the end of this song and the start of the next, you feel his head lean back against yours.

—

You and Kevin decide to get dinner after leaving the record shop, choosing the first place you can find to fill your empty stomachs.

“Let’s ask each other some questions.” You suggest while you’re waiting for the food to come out. “One to help us get to know each other better, and we have to answer one hundred percent honestly.”

“Okay,” he nods, “I’ll start. Favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Gold.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Up.”

“Howl’s Moving Castle.”

You both continue like that asking each other for even more favorites: favorite food, favorite show, favorite holiday, favorite city. Vancouver, Kevin had answered to which you scoffed complaining that choosing his hometown is cheating. He only shrugged. You move onto firsts after: first phone, first kiss, first childhood memory, first job, first celebrity crush.

“You’re turn to ask.” You remind, hoping to quickly move on after confessing your childhood obsession with Chad Michael Murray.

“Okay,” Kevin hums, contemplating a new question and twirling his drink around, “how about… first love?”

“Oh, uh,” you scratch a spot on the table, “I’m not really sure I’ve ever been in love.” You pause there, expecting Kevin to say something. He does not. “Like I’ve dated before,” you sputter out quickly, filling in the empty space left by his nonexistent reply, “seriously, too. But I don’t think it was ever actually love.”

His mouth parts, chest inflates slightly, as if the words need a minute to boil in the back of his throat. They must never come, you think when his mouth closes and his chest deflates, lips tightly shut. A silence crashes over the table, awkwardly taut.

“What about you?” You return the question, cutting through the silence with what you hope is nonchalance.

“Oh, me,” he chuckles sheepishly, “probably freshman year band. I fell so hard for this oboe player.” You give him a look at the confession, sucking in your bottom lip and biting back a laugh. His face twists with confusion. “What?”

“I just can’t believe I got off a train with a band geek.”

“Hey,” he defends, “better than a serial killer.”

You shrug. “Not by much.”

—

It was Kevin’s idea to rent a boat to ride along the canal in. “The little foot pedaling ones,” he had requested, pointing them out. Luckily, you were able to find one before they shut down for the day. And the late timing of your activity made for a picturesque backdrop, the sun beginning to set as you drift along the canal, the sky immersed in varying hues of pink, yellow, and blue. Kevin had paused pedaling for a second to take a picture of the sunset which was fine until one picture turned into fifty.

“You know when you said you wanted to boat along the canal I sort assumed you were gonna help me pedal.”

“Last one.” He mumbles, the small shutter of his phone camera clicking before he shoves it back in his pocket and resumes pedaling with you. “More favorites?” He offers when the silence lingers for a little too long.

“Please, no. I know way too much about you now.” He laughs at that. “New topic.”

“Do you ever think about dying?”

You whip your head towards him. “Morbid much?”

“Yeah, I know, but seriously.” He says, brows lifted to further prove the sincerity of his question. “Do you?”

You turn back to the front. “I mean I’m alive, so yeah, sometimes. You?”

“Probably think about it too much if I’m being honest.” And there’s something that sounds distinctly like exhaustion in the way he says it.

“Would you rather know how you die or when you die?” You ask suddenly.

His answer comes just as quick. “When. Definitely when.”

“Why?”

“I feel like if I were to be told how I die, I’d spend the rest of my life avoiding it or trying to stop it. But there isn’t anything I can do to avoid the passing of time.”

“Profound.” You mutter, unable to figure out if you’re surprised or shocked by how well-thought his answer sounds.

“I told you,” he says, with a breathy laugh, “I think about death too much.”

“What about a goal in life?”

“What about it?”

“Have one?”

He considers the question, eyes trained on the water rippling in front of him. “To make a difference in someone’s life maybe.” He shrugs. “To be happy. I don’t know.”

“Being happy used to be mine too.”

He frowns. “Used to?”

“I used to be obsessed with this idea of happiness,” you tell him, nodding, “used to spend all my time avoiding whatever made me sad. But whenever I chased happiness, I was also the most dissatisfied with my life.” You stop for a second, check Kevin’s reaction, and find a frown still imprinted on his face. “I kinda see it like clouds now. They’re pretty from afar, but when they’re up close, we call it fog. Even when happiness was placed right in front of me, it never felt like enough. Most days, I’m still teaching myself that happiness is not a permanent state of being; it’s an emotion, and it comes and goes like the rest of them.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while. Silently pedaling the boat along the canal. Then finally—

“Damn, who’s the profound one now.”

—

You and Kevin find yourself on a bridge that overlooks the canal after renting the foot pedaling boat. The sun is barely visible, taking its last dip in the horizon before disappearing altogether. You hold out your hand to hover in one of the last golden rays of light, shivering at the warmth.

“Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time?”

“Running out of time for what?”

“To experience life.” Kevin further explains, with a heavy exhale. “I feel like there’s this sick pressure and expectation created by romanticized coming-of-age movies that my youth is supposed to be the best years of my life. Like I should be living every second of it to the fullest. And then I end up spending all my time wondering how I’m going to live up to my youth instead of actually living it.”

“So, is that why you did it?” You pull your hand back in, tucking it under your chin. “Did you ask me to get off the train with you so that in ten years you can look back and feel like you made something of your youth, like you didn’t waste it.”

And something about the bluntness of your question must spread through the air and tug at the end of his lip. “Well, that’s a harsh way to put it, but,” he frowns, inhaling mid-sentence, “I don’t know. Maybe—yea, maybe it was part of the reason.” He pivots around, back pressed to the railing, elbows propped on the ledge, and face turned away from the last sliver of setting sun. You study his face: the point of his chin, slope of his nose, and high set of his cheekbones. He’s pretty. Too pretty, even. A realization that lands as heavily in the pit of your stomach as it did the first time you noticed on the train. And perhaps it’s just that: a realization. Or perhaps, more terrifyingly, it’s something closer to attraction. “Well, why’d you do it?” Kevin asks, turning his head slightly and catching you watching him, something you’ve both done too many times at this point to keep count of. “Why’d you get off the train with me?”

You swallow. “I thought about that couple from the first car. When you asked me to come with you, I thought of that arguing couple and saw my future flash before my eyes. I felt like I could see myself fifteen years from now. Could see myself falling in love, getting married, and somewhere along the way falling out. I could see myself sitting and fighting in the middle of a train. And a part of me just knew, that if I didn’t go with you, if I stayed on that train and continued to Paris, I’d spent the rest of my life regretting it, wondering what could’ve happened.”

You turn away from the sinking sun, swivel your head around to face Kevin again and find him differently than you had left him. Head tilted and biting at the inside of his cheek. Side pressed against the bridge’s railing so that he’s facing you directly. You straighten up, position yourself to face him as well, another asymmetrical smile growing on his face while you do.

“I’m really glad you decided to get off the train with me.”

You step closer, and when your hand knocks against his, he catches it, fingers curling around yours. “Me too.”

“Although, I do hope that if you’re married in fifteen years, it’s happily and that you’re one of those sickeningly in love with each other couple that everyone hates.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says it, watching your intertwined hands with a shy smile instead. And it’s somehow, oddly intimate when he squeezes your palm while wishing you a successful, hypothetical marriage. You feel suddenly breathless, and more prominently, fearless.

“I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes snap towards yours, pupils dilated and darker than normal. He doesn’t say anything.

You know he heard you, know—slightly less confidently—that he wants to kiss you as much as you want to be kissed. So you step towards him again, tugging at the end of his sleeve.

“Kevin.”

His gaze drops to your lips. “Yea.”

“Kiss me.”

And rationally, you know soulmates don’t exist. But there’s something about the way his lips fit perfectly against yours that almost makes you reconsider the belief.

—

“You know when I suggested we play pool, I really wasn’t expecting to have my ass handed to me like this.” He groans, staring at the five of his balls still left on the table.

“Next time suggest darts.” You tell him, voice raised to be heard over the loud pub.

You put the pool sticks back and seat yourselves at one of the empty tables.

“Okay, I have a question,” he says, leaning forward against the small booth table. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Definitely not.”

“Really?” He sounds surprised.

“You do?”

“Well…” he hesitates, tongue darting out between his lips, “I don’t know if I believe it but I also don’t not know that I do.”

Your face contorts at his wording. “I don’t think—”

“Okay, yes, I know, but like have you never fallen just a little bit in love with a complete stranger?” You shake your head slowly. “Like you’ve never had a barista compliment your jacket or your eyes once and then spent the next week thinking about them?”

You place a hand to your heart. “I genuinely had no idea this was a common occurrence.”

“You know what, no, I take it back, never mind,” he quickly says, the tips of his ears turning red and hand waving in the air to dismiss the thought. “New topic.”

A breathy laugh escapes from between your lips. “Alright, new topic,” you hum, nodding your head along to the music playing in the background, “do you believe in soulmates?”

He smiles at the question. “Yes and no.”

“Explain.”

“The term ‘soulmate’ has this implication that love will fall into place between two individuals, that they won’t have to work for it, and that it was chosen for them instead of by them. But isn’t it so much more special to look at someone and decide to love them specifically. Decide to love them on purpose. But more than that, the general idea of a ‘soulmate’ relies too heavily on the understanding of love as a feeling. And it’s as you said before about happiness: emotions come and go, and feelings fade. I imagine, more accurately, that love is a choice as much as it’s a feeling, one that you have to get up and make every single day. So yeah, I believe soulmates are real, but I don’t think they’re found; I think they’re made.”

And after his whole spiel, the only thing ringing throughout your head is: holy shit.

He looks up at you, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he starts timidly, voice suddenly lacking the immense clarity it held just a second ago, “what do you think?”

“I think,” you swallow, a lame attempt to digest everything he just said, “that I’ll never look at love the same again.”

—

By the time you and Kevin leave from the pub, it’s completely dark out. Streetlamps now lit up and the roads less crowded with only a few whispering groups around each corner. You walk mindlessly around the city’s twisted streets, deciding when and where to turn on whims. And somewhere along the way, while you’re making a comment abput the closed antique store, Kevin’s hand finds its way into yours. You squeeze his palm, a silent affirmation, when he does.

“Wait,” you exclaim, halting suddenly in the square that you and Kevin have stumbled upon, “I think I’ve been here before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, dragging him towards the fountain in the center, “I came here with my family once. I remember seeing this fountain and wanting to throw a coin in.”

“I mean are you sure? Fountains are pretty common.”

You shove his arm. “I swear this is the same one.”

“Here,” he mutters, reaching into his pocket, fishing out two coins, and placing one in your palm. “make a wish now.”

You hold the coin to your lips, closing your eyes while conjuring a wish and then toss the coin in the fountain. Kevin tosses his in a second after you.

“Hey, look,” you take a seat on the ledge of the fountain, pointing at the church across the square, “there was a wedding there today.”

“You know, I learned in school, I think, about Quakers, and,” he starts, sitting down beside you on the ledge, “they have the most interesting weddings.”

“What makes it so interesting?”

“Well for one, there’s no officiant. No handing off of anyone. What’ll happen is the couple walks in, stands in front of the entire congregation, and just stares. And it’s silent too, no one speaks unless they feel compelled to do so. Then after an hour or so, that it; they’re married. Just like that.”

You turn on the ledge to face him. “Okay let’s try it.”

His eyebrows waggle. “Getting married?”

You look at him unamused. “Just the staring part.”

He nods. “Okay, ready?” he shuts his eyes in preparation, “3, 2, 1, go!”

Your eyes open at the same time as his, and you nearly laugh at the sheer amount of competitive spirit radiating off Kevin at that moment. And when you mention it, he shakes it off, muttering something about how you’re supposed to be silent.

When you start leaning in towards him, it’s to mock him and his competitiveness. Or at least, it is at first. But somewhere along the way, you lose track of how close you get to him. Lose track of time as well. Too distracted with studying the concentrated furrow of his brows and the flecks in his eyes to notice whether you’ve spent one minute or twenty getting lost in them. And it’s a cheesy thought, yes, but there’s something about him and the black hair falling in front of his forehead that makes it so hard to care.

You inhale. “I think I feel compelled to do something now.”

“What?”

You close the distance, pressing your lips to his for a brief moment, then pull away.

“I won,” Kevin murmurs, a smug smile painted across his face, “you closed your eyes first.”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying and failing to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous; you know that right?”

“I do.”

“Good.”

You kiss him again.

—

“Kevin, what are we doing?” You ask for the third time as he pulls you into the red telephone booth and shuts the door. “You do know that these don’t actually work anymore right?”

He shushes you, pressing a finger to his lips and picking up the receiver. “I have to make a call.” He clears his throat, holds the receiver up to his ear, and makes the ringing sound. “Come on, Jacob, pick up.” You stare at him waiting for the punchline. It never comes. Instead, he fixes you a look and nods his head at your empty hand.

“Ah, I see,” you hold out a fake phone in your hand, clearing your throat and putting on a fake deep voice. “Hey, Kevin. Long time no talk. How’s Europe?”

Kevin gives you a funny look. “Hey, Jacob. Europe is great, but why does your voice sound like that?”

You clear your throat again returning to your normal voice. “My bad, I just woke up.”

“That’s better. Anyways, I called to tell you that I met someone on my very last night in Europe.”

“How’d you meet them?”

“On the train to Amsterdam actually. They were sitting by this really annoying couple, so they got up and sat right across the aisle from me. What are the chances, right?”

“Probably, low.” You begin, a familiar exhilaration filling your stomach at what you’re about to confess. “Unless, of course, it wasn’t by chance at all. Unless they saw you getting on the train, thought you were really cute, and used the couple as an excuse to sit by you.” You smile as you say it, finding the way Kevin looks at you after the admission utterly swoon worthy.

“Well, even if that’s true. I think I sort of blew it with them in the beginning. They saw me rereading ‘A series of unfortunate events’ and probably thought I was so lame.”

“Nah,” you mutter, smiling at your feet, “they probably found it endearing.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I got a good feeling.” When you meet Kevin’s eyes, he’s still watching you, and you find it humorous, almost, how you can barely keep your eyes off each other now especially considering how impossible it felt to do so in the beginning. “So what happened after that?”

“Oh well, I asked them to come to the lounge car with me and guess what?”

“What?”

“They said yes.”

“Incredible.”

“Then, we got to talking, and, Jacob, everything they said sounded so smart and composed; I felt like a bumbling idiot in front of them. I mean, you wouldn’t believe how incredibly brilliant they are, not to mention gorgeous, and...” his voice trails off, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You lean towards him a bit, as if that’ll get you closer to hearing the rest of the sentence.

“And what?”

“And I think I fell in love with them right then.”

For a second, you forget to breathe.

Kevin hangs up the fake phone call, handing the receiver to you. “Your turn.”

You take the phone from him, pretend to dial the number, then make the ringing sound while you wait for Kevin to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Chanhee. It’s me. I have to cancel on our lunch plans tomorrow.”

“Oh no. Why? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, no, everything is fine. I just met someone on the train and—god, I know this is going to sound insane—but I got off the train with him in Amsterdam.”

“That is insane,” his eyes widen dramatically as he says it. “What made you get off the train with him?”

“Well, for starters, the arguing couple.”

“Right, and of course, I, Chanhee, know exactly what that means.”

“See, I knew you’d understand.” You laugh. “But other than the couple, you know, we started talking on the train and he was so sweet and really cute in this clumsy, flustered sort of way. I don’t know. I think a part of me had already decided to get off the train with him before he ever asked.”

“That sounds…” he falters there, as if he’s still searching for the right word, “special.”

You nod. “It feels special too.”

“So what now?”

“I’m not sure.” You answer honestly. “He’s from Canada and has a flight back there tomorrow morning.”

“Well, do you plan on seeing him again?”

The question comes like a slap to the face from the palm of reality itself. One that you probably should have anticipated; a question that probably should’ve crossed your mind at least once. But somehow, you’ve neglected to wonder what’s to come of this fling past tonight.

You hang up, and the obnoxious clatter of the receiver falling back into place rings throughout the booth.

“I guess we should talk about that.”

“Yeah, I guess we should.” He mumbles, something in his demeanor changing with the words.

A silence overcomes both of you, and it feels like you’re in the listening booth of the record shop again, avoiding each other’s eyes and waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Well it’s—“

“I think—“

You both start at the same time, words crashing together in the air. He laughs, gesturing for you to go first.

You exhale sharply, tugging on your fingers and already nervous to hear how Kevin will respond. “I just don’t think we should fool ourselves here and make this out to be anything more than it is.”

“Yeah, no. I was gonna say the same thing.” He nods solemnly, visibly gulping as if the words are hard to swallow. A smile fights its way onto his lips but doesn’t manage to meet his eyes. “So what now?”

“Well, we have tonight,” you begin, stepping closer, finding his hand, and twirling his pinky finger with yours, “I say we make the most of it.”

“In that case,” he returns the gesture, capturing your hand and pulling you a little closer, “I have an idea.”

—

Kevin’s idea ends up with you standing awkwardly off to the side of a bar, quite literally twiddling your thumbs. You reach for Kevin’s necklace that’s now secured around your neck and wonder what part of his plan explains why he gave it to you before entering this establishment. You sneak a few glances at Kevin who's speaking with the lady behind the bar. The lady finally nods, smiling cheerily and heading around the bar. Kevin swivels around, shooting you a thumbs up before receiving the bottle of wine that the lady had retrieved for him.

“How did you do that?” You ask once you’re both out of earshot, exiting from the building.

“I told her that I just proposed.”

You look at him unconvinced, wiggling your left hand in his face. “No ring.”

“That’s what the necklace was for.”

“And it worked?” You say, disbelief seeping into your voice. “She believed you?”

He scoffs. “I don’t know why you look so shocked when you’re literally the one I convinced to get off a train with a complete stranger.”

And, well, he makes an excellent point.

—

You end up at a park, laying on your backs and making silly comments about each star. You have jackets laid out on the grass beneath you and another draped over both of you acting as a blanket.

“Have you ever heard of that theory?” You say, turning to lay on your side. “About how people fall out of love for the same reason they fell in.” He turns to lay on his side, nodding. “It terrifies me.”

He frowns. “I think love alone is pretty terrifying.”

“Did you mean it?” You reposition yourself with an arm under your head. “Back in the telephone booth, did you mean it when you said you fell for me on the train.”

He stares at you for a long moment then smiles, whispering a small but sincere ‘yes’.

“Can I tell you a secret then?” He nods. “I think I fell for you too.”

“When?”

“Guess.”

“On the bridge?” You shake your head. “During dinner?”

“Before that.”

“In the museum?”

“You’re getting colder.”

“Ah,” he sighs in understanding, “the listening booth.”

You nod. “It was while we were listening to that Italian song, ‘Il Mondo’. Each time I felt you looking away, I would look at you. Then you’d turn your head back, and I’d pretend like I wasn’t staring. That moment—well, I guess it was pretty mundane. But, I don’t know, it still felt a little like magic.”

“Mundane things can be quite magical.”

“Which one is love then: magical or mundane?”

He shrugs. “Both, I think.”

There’s a silence, and it lingers for long enough to remind you of the awkwardness between you and Kevin after getting off the train. However, this silence is so much more different than that other one because it’s the kind that only comes when two people understand each other.

Kevin is the one who ends up breaking it, cutting through the night’s overwhelming quiet with a soft voice.

“I feel like that painting from the museum right now.” He recalls the title: “‘Lover’s Embrace’.”

“Is that what we are?” You question, a bit of misplaced insecurity dipping into your voice. “Lovers?”

“Is there any other way to describe this?”

“I don’t know.” You inhale. “Strangers?”

He waits a beat, then offers: “Soulmates?”

You’re reminded of the conversation you had in the pub, and his gut-wrenching, life-altering definition of the term. You meet his eyes steadily. “Do you believe that?”

He smiles. “Do you?”

And there’s something about the way he says the question that makes it sound like a dare, like a request. As if he isn’t asking if you believe it, but rather, he’s asking you to believe it.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. But it’s a lie, you do.

“The way I see it,” he begins, scooting closer, “if someone were to give me an ultimatum: I’d marry you right now. And I know it’s insane, I know that probably just sounds like some grand romantic bullshit, but I’m serious. With how I’ve come to feel about you tonight, I could wake up every day and put in the work of choosing to love you.”

“And what about the couple on the train?”

“What about them?”

“What happens when we become them? What happens when we hate each other so much, we blow up in public?”

“Who says we will?”

“But hypothetically,” you insist, “what happens then?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“It’s gonna sound stupid.”

“Just tell me.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” He lets the statement sit for a second, inhaling deeply before continuing. “I’d accept the inevitable arguing in the middle of a train if I was doing it with you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“But that’s the craziest part,” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I actually do.”

“How?” You huff. “How can you sound so certain that you’ll love me despite all the things you’ll come to hate me for?”

“Because you got off the train with me,” he says, shaking his head like the answer is obvious. “And at this point in the night, I’m pretty convinced that you’re the only person in the world who would.”

And yeah, you think laughing, he’s probably right about that part. Because who else would be insane enough to get off a train with a complete stranger? Who else would fall in love on a train and while listening to an Italian record? Who else but you and Kevin Moon?

“You know what they call that?”

“What?”

You raise your brow, something terrifying hanging off the tip of your tongue:

“Soulmate culture.”

—

You used to love sunrises. Loved how golden they are. How they coat everything in sight, lighting up whatever darkness was left by the night. You always saw them as a promise of something new, a new day and a new beginning. But today, when the sun does finally rise, you can’t seem to remember why you used to love them so much. Especially not after you spent the entire night dreading this particular one.

The walk to the train station had been quiet for the most part, a solemn and groggy acceptance that it was your final stretch of time together. And now standing with Kevin at the platform, you’ve never hated the arrival of a train more.

“I should probably get on the train now.”

“Right,” Kevin mutters, chewing on his bottom lip and bouncing on his heels. He laughs, awkwardly, rubbing at his eyes. “God, I hate goodbyes.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I hate this one.”

You hug him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face between his neck and shoulder. He hesitates for a second, as if he’s shocked by the gesture, then tightens his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. And the only thing you can think about while hugging him is how this is the first and last time you’ll ever do so.

You pull away, give him a small, sad smile, then grab your things, stepping onto the train. You give him a wave before disappearing into the car. From the window by your seat, you can still see him. He finds you, giving you a smile and another wave. And when he turns around, beginning to walk out of the train station, nothing has ever felt more wrong.

“Kevin!” You shout, unlatching the window and sticking your head out of it. He whips back around. “Let’s just do it! Let’s see each other again!”

It takes a second for Kevin to react. Too long, your brain convinces you already wishing the words back. But it’s as you sink back into your seat that he breaks out in the most brilliant grin. “Fuck it, yeah, let’s do it! Where?”

You laugh at the absurdity of this moment and how unreal it feels. “Here! Amsterdam, at this train station, on this platform.”

“Okay, here. In one year?”

You shake your head. “I can’t wait that long.”

“Me neither.” He laughs, an exhale of pure joy that you can see even from the train.

“Six months from today.” You tell him over the train whistle as the wheels start to move, pulling you away. “See you then.”

He waves goodbye again, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, “see you then!”

You fall back in your seat, immediately burying your face into your palms. Your hands trail down, rubbing at your neck, clutching the part of your chest that falls over your heart, and—what is that?

You look down, recognizing the object around your neck and lifting it up with the pad of your thumb. And as you stare at the pendant of Kevin’s forgotten necklace, your smile grows.

—

SIX MONTHS LATER

The train station feels so much more different than how you left it. The weather now colder, and the platform decked with lingering holiday decorations. You get off the train and look around, praying for a familiar face.

“Hey.” The voice comes from behind you. You pivot around, so quickly your head spins. Or maybe the spinning sensation has something to do with how euphoric it feels to see Kevin again.

“Hey.”

“You came?” He asks, not bothering to hold back his elation.

“Well, yeah,” you reach into the pocket of your coat and fish out the necklace he left six months ago, “you forgot this.”

“Funny coincidence, huh? Unless, of course, it wasn’t a coincidence at all.” He hints with a smug grin. “Unless I left it on purpose so that you’d have a reason to come back.”

“If that’s the case, then you spent six months without your necklace for nothing.”

“Oh, and why’s that?”

You step closer, smiling. “Because I already had a reason to come.”

a/n: i had way too much fun writing this,, also the translation of the italian song is half google and half me kind of assuming what the lyrics mean so idk how accurate that translation is

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captainkurosolaire · 3 years ago

Note

I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!

Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)

@eligos-venator

- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.

@mischiefandmystics

- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.

@mishivymendi

- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.

@asymphonyofash

- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.

@lavender-hemlock

- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)

@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes

under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full

head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.

#I acknowledge you #Love you #Keep doing you #Asks answered #I'm the one guy who's never not going to be filtered or unspoken #To many people have left or been broken #Don't you ever think about it.#There's so many many more #But I'll recharge for next time

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orbitariums · 4 years ago

Text

winter with a weasley | fred w. + black fem. reader

i was tired of searching high and low for hp imagines with black readers so !! here goes my own :) send me recs of hp writers who write for black girls!!!

reader is a black woman and a ravenclaw!

happy holidays <333

word count: 5k

The pitter patter of snow could be heard from inside the dimly lit library, wet snowflakes streaking down the window panes of the large window beside you. The night sky was falling upon you, twinkling stars forming around the top of the castle. The air was clear, no fog to be seen, but your eyes were glazing over as if you were in the midst of a fog storm anyway, your nose buried deep in a copy of “Winograd’s Wondrous Water Plants.” You blinked away the sleepiness clouding up your eyesight, stifling a yawn. The candle in front of you threatened to burn out, and you flicked a lazy finger towards it, the flame rising once again. You were grateful for the cozy, thick sweater Luna had knitted you, protecting you from the slight chill that was penetrating the glass window. You pulled it closer to you, though its warmth threatened to make you fall asleep.

You had hardly realized that your cheek was dragging against your palm, and that your eyes were feeling droopier than ever, until you were jolted to a start when you heard Harry Potter’s voice from beside you. He was standing at the side of the otherwise empty library table that you were sitting at, a book clutched beneath his arm.

“There you are, everyone’s been wondering where you were. Well, mainly Fred,” Harry admitted, his eyes glancing at you, hunched over your book with nothing but candlelight in front of you. “What’re you doing in the library anyway, exams are over.”

You pushed your shoulder blades back, relieving some of the tension in your body from being curled up with books for hours after classes had ended for the winter break. You were slightly relieved to see Harry, as you were starting to get sort of a headache from all the words jumbling up together on the page. You replied with a small smile.

“Just doing some after-exam review, that’s all. I want to see what I missed, if anything.

That way I’ll know what to study harder for next time, that’s all,” you shrugged, and Harry couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

“Just like Hermione,” he noted. “I’m only in here because I’m returning a book. Fred will think you’ve gone mental, studying after exams.”

You chuckled to think of the pink-faced, tousle-haired Weasley twin. He was crazy about you, and everyone knew it. You, on the other hand, were far too focused on your studies to pay him any real attention. He was a distraction, and a horrible one at that— you’d never ace your exams if you were with him, he’d probably have you helping set up him and George’s next prank. Your playfully unamused demeanor towards his advances didn’t stop him anyway, he still teased you and flirted with you every chance he got, because no matter how much you told yourself you shouldn’t have a boyfriend, he always caught how bashful you became at his flirtatious remarks.

“Well, he’ll survive, won’t he?” you shook your head playfully, and Harry nodded in the other direction, out of the library.

“Take a break, we’re having a little party in the common room, you should join us,” Harry suggested, and you took one glance from your books to the lanky boy in front of you before sighing and closing your book. Why not?

When you clamored through the entrance to the common room after avoiding the Fat Lady’s attempt at a poor rendition of Deck the Halls, you were met with all the holiday cheer you’d ever need for a lifetime. The Gryffindor common room, already in the Christmas spirit with all its red furniture, was draped in Christmas lights and holiday wreaths. The sound of holiday music blasted through the room, bewitched so that it was unable to be heard by passersby, in the hopes that no one would break up their little party.

The smell of baked goods wafted past your nose as you entered, and you found your stomach growling— you’d spent lunch studying, hardly eating a thing, and you’d skipped out on dinner to huddle up in the practically deserted library. In the corner of the room was a tree that changed colors each time someone passed by it, and you could see aggravated gnomes shuffling about on one of the window sills, griping about how they were forced into itchy, tiny holiday sweaters. The room was warm and full of Christmas cheer, and you could even spot a student with a permanent drizzle of snow over their head, covered in a coat and a beanie with white flakes spotting the top.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, covering your mouth with your hand. You were glad Harry had gotten you out, otherwise you’d probably still be in the library half-asleep. This was much, much better, and you weren’t just saying that. You could see Hermione and Ron approaching you, broad grins on their faces.

“There you are! We were hoping you’d show up,” Hermione gave you a hug, followed by Ron.

“Harry says you were in the library. Honestly, I don’t understand you two,” Ron said, meaning you and Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes while you just chuckled, though you were promptly distracted,

“Well, I’m here now. Is that treacle fudge?”

You headed over to the table of food in a hungry daze, your mouth threatening to water the closer you got to it. You were stacking on food onto a holiday themed plate before you knew it, chicken legs smothered with gravy, greens, cornish pasties, pumpkin sandwich cookies, and treacle tart. You were about to grab utensils, your eyes focused on the table below you, until you were barricaded by two all-too-familiar figures on either side of you. You sighed in exasperation, looking up at Fred Weasley, who was in front of you, then turning to George Weasley, who was directly behind you.

“Fancy seeing you here!” George exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

“Really, would’ve thought you were gonna be a no-show!” Fred cupped your shoulder with his hand, spinning you to face him.

“Though, how could he miss you?” George started, making you turn again to face him this time.

“You positively light up the room when you walk in,” Fred answered George smoothly, spinning you by the shoulder yet again for you to face him.

You were dizzy from the amount of times the twins had you spinning this way and that, but you steadied yourself in enough time to wag your finger disapprovingly at Fred, the main culprit in all this,

“Must you always surround me?”

You reached for a fork and a knife, but Fred conjured both from his robes pocket, teeth sparkling as he grinned widely at you.

You rolled your eyes, but took the fork and knife anyway, muttering a thanks.

“Really though, where were you?” Fred asked, following you even as you walked away, side by side.

“The library,” you answered shortly, and Fred stared at you, shaking his head in clear disdain,

“Honestly, woman, don’t you ever take a break?”

You turned to face him, snickering as you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your treacle fudge,

“Don’t you ever take a break?”

Fred smirked, poking underneath your chin with a coquettish finger,

“Not from you.”

You couldn’t help the heat that flooded your cheeks even if the response was corny. Fred Weasley was always quick on his feet, and never one to back down from a challenge. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like him in the way he so obviously liked you. It was so amusing to watch, even if it could be annoying— no matter what, Fred was shamelessly, devastatingly in love with you. He wasn’t embarrassed to be turned down, or to show it in the only ways he knew how: through poking fun at you and using the most annoying, yet memorable pick up lines in the book on you.

“I’ve noticed,” you cocked your head with a smug expression, and Fred only shook his head, gearing up to say something just as smug as you until he was interrupted by the soft hum of Luna Lovegood’s voice as she zoomed up behind you, happy to see you wearing her sweater.

“YN!” she exclaimed, her voice wispy and cheerful as usual.

You turned to face her, completely dismissing Fred, who decided he’d get you back later. You engulfed her in a hug, and the two of you got to talking, dancing, and sharing a jug of butterbeer that George had smuggled in.

You had finished the jug and your food, and you were laying back on one of the couches in front of the crackling fireplace, which was roaring high with orange-hued flames. You were tired, but the good kind, not from spending hours hunched over a book this time around, but from partying and eating so much you could hardly move. Ron, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor in front of you, scarfing down another turkey leg.

“Honestly, Ron, do you ever stop eating?” Hermione hissed on the floor beside him, and Ron frowned, whining through a mouthful of food,

“It’s the holidays, Her-my-knee, let me live for once.”

Apparently, it was now time for the gift giving, which the Weasley twins were in charge of emceeing, and they were making a very big deal of it. Each time someone was up to give a gift, they used their wands as microphones, their voices booming around the room as they called the names of the people meant to collect their gifts from the receiver. Harry had gotten Ron a Chudley Cannons quidditch shirt, you already had Luna’s sweater and you had given her a pair of flying sneakers to make flying that much easier. All the gift-giving and receiving was quite lovely to watch, and everyone ended up satisfied. The twins had made sure no one left empty handed, giving people goodies that would probably turn into toads in an hour or two.

“And now, the last present of the night, and we truly do save the best for last,” George announced with a proud, thunderous voice.

Fred eased up beside George like a sneaky weasel, George throwing an arm around his shoulders. Fred had something in a sparkly, glittering gift bag, and everyone was intrigued, leaning forward to see what it was.

“Take it away, Freddy,” George patted Fred’s shoulder, then slinked away so Fred could have the floor all to himself.

“This gift goes out to a special someone,” Fred wiggled his eyebrows, deliberately making his voice deeper, and everyone started to hoot lowly. “A certain little smartypants Ravenclaw girl who has my heart.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully and looking away from Fred, who had zeroed in on you.

“She’s a bit shy,” Fred joked, making the room erupt in laughter.

“Go on!” Luna prodded you, her eyes twinkling as she smiled at you.

You lugged yourself up off the couch and got up, making your way over to Fred, who was standing in front of everyone next to the color-changing Christmas tree, which burned a passionate red when you stood in front of Fred.

“You idiot,” you remarked playfully, and he only grinned, handing you the bag.

“See what’s inside, won’t you!” George hollered, and you glared at him before opening the bag.

Inside was a flower in a pot full of red soil. Not just any flower, but perhaps the most beautiful flower you’d ever seen. Its leaves, a pale pink color, seemed to shine, light radiating off of the petals and basking your face in a warm glow. The petals were fat and wide, spiraling at the end into little hollow heart shapes, all of which were of varying colors. As it got closer to the center, the colors of the flower grew into deeper myriads of pinks and purples. You had never seen such a plant before, and you were a top herbology student, plants and flowers were your specialty. It was so beautiful, and probably rare as well. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but nothing like this. You were so surprised, you half expected it to be a prank of Fred and George’s, thinking it might transfigure into a mole rat.

The rest of the students in the packed common room were just as shocked as you were, gasping and whispering amongst themselves, immediately enamoured by the unique beauty of the flower that made cooing noises in your hand like a little puppy.

“Fred,” you gasped, looking up at him with widened eyes.

“Thought it’d fit you, know you’re into plants and all that smart people stuff,” Fred grinned, clearly satisfied with your reaction.

“I-it’s amazing, I-”

“That’s not all, he’s got more for you in the bag!” George cut you off, and Fred shoved him playfully, laughing,

“Shut up, you bloke! Let her see for herself.”

You ruffled through the bag, which was indeed full of your favorite sweets— honeydukes chocolate, pepper imps, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans, chocolate frogs, and more. You could hardly generate a response, your mouth stuck open in an o-shape. You liked Fred, but you didn’t expect this from him.

You chuckled, still shocked, and grinned, bemused,

“Fred, this really is a lot, I honestly didn’t expect it. I-I don’t know how to thank you!”

Before you knew it, you were lunging forward to embrace him, hugging him tight in front of everyone. He was lucky he could cover his face in your shoulder, because he was red as a tomato. You gazed at the flower in your hands when you pulled away, still entranced by it.

“‘M glad you like it,” Fred murmured almost shyly, the first you’d ever heard him sound anything other than cocky.

You frowned, truly feeling terrible— you weren’t expecting anything from Fred, and so you didn’t get him anything. Now you felt horrible, standing there empty handed when he’d just given you the most thoughtful, beautiful gift.

“Oh, Fred, I didn’t get you anything!” you bemoaned, your eyebrows furrowing together. “I feel horrible.”

“‘S alright, you’ll make it up to me,” Fred smirked, leaning back against the wall of the fireplace and folding his arms.

The room filled with a plethora of suggestive “oohs” and “ahhs”, and when you turned to face Ron, you saw he had gone red from watching his brother flirt with you, meanwhile Harry was stifling a laugh, and Ginny was burying her face in her knees while Hermione rolled her eyes. You looked back over at Fred and couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head slowly.

“I just might have to,” was all you said, George leaping onto Fred in celebration.

After the gift giving was over, well, it had ended with you, (and it really was best for last), the party started to wind down as people began to say their goodbyes and make their way back to their dorms. Most people would be going home for Christmas, but you’d be staying here at Hogwarts, scraping by with the few friends who would still be there. But, you weren’t getting away with it that easy. While talking with Fred, George, Hermione, Ron and Harry, you mentioned how you’d be staying in the castle for break. They all made an uproar in disagreement, shaking their heads and complaining.

“That’s rubbish, you’ve got to at least come to our place over break,” George threw his hands up, and Fred nodded vigorously— you couldn’t help but think this had been on his mind the longest.

“Yes, do come to The Burrow, I’ll be there as well,” Hermione insisted, clutching your arm.

You smiled, looking around at all the needy faces. You hadn’t expected them to be so welcoming, it was already a full house. You didn’t want to intrude, “Won’t your mom be so busy? I mean, all of us? I don’t want to make her holiday stressful.”

George scoffed,

“The woman will make it stressful no matter what.”

“Really. Besides, mum loves you,” Fred persisted. “She can’t get over me being with a smart Ravenclaw girl who’ll keep me out of trouble.”

You snorted,

“But I’m not with you.”

“You will be,” Fred shrugged, unbothered, and you refused to meet his eye because you knew you wouldn’t be able to restrain your smile if you did look at him.

“Come on, just come with us! We’ll be leaving in a few days and get there just a day before Christmas Eve, that’s more than enough time to pack your things,” Ron demanded, and you couldn’t help but give in, your body shaking with laughter.

“Alright, alright, I’ll spend the holiday with you.”

The circle of friends erupted into cheers, and you grinned, your sparkling eyes meeting Fred’s, who was truly glad he’d have you there for the break.

Things were really beginning to wind down shortly after, and you were getting ready to head back to your dorm and go to bed. Luna had already left, and you were one of the few people still remaining. You’d spent the rest of your time talking to that circle of friends, though Fred got next to you whenever he could and talked your ear off. When you were on your way to leave, holding your gift in its sparkly gift bag from Fred, you turned around at the sound of footsteps thudding behind you. It was Fred, running up to you, coming to a stop in front of you,

“YN, wait. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

“Sure,” you grinned warmly.

You and Fred left together, walking side by side in the dark, winding halls of the castle. You talked quietly, Fred taking any chance to make you laugh, and you did laugh each and every time. You stopped in front of your dormitory and stood there, facing each other, not quite saying anything, just smiling stupidly at each other. It was almost humorous how you tried to avoid your fate with Fred, knowing you liked him back. But you always beat around the bush, because you were really a very studious girl and you knew Fred Weasley would just be a distraction. But you knew he wasn’t that bad. How could he be?

“Well,” you sniffed awkwardly, cupping your gift bag in your palms.

“Welllll,” Fred echoed, dragging out the word and making you laugh.

“Really, Fred, thank you, I can’t imagine how you even got this, it’s beautiful, really.”

“Reminded me of you.”

“Oh, Fred,” you groaned, making a face like you’d just tasted a sour lemon and laughing. “You’re so cheesy.”

“But you like that about me,” Fred squinted his eyes at you, as if he was seeing right through you.

“I can neither confirm or deny that statement. Your head might explode if I confirm,” you teased, and he simply nodded in agreement.

“You’ve got a point.”

“Really though, how did you get this? I’ve never seen such a thing before. Don’t tell me you stole it from Professor Sprout.”

“Honestly, how much of a git do you think I am? I’ve got my connections, that’s all. It’s special, keep your eye on it.”

“Alright,” you grinned, sniffing the fragrant, honey-nectar scented center of the flower. “I’ll leave you be. I really do feel bad that I didn’t get you anything though. If I’d known I would’ve-”

Fred shook his head,

“Oh shut up. Of course I had to get you something, all I wanted this holiday was to get you something you’d like. And you like it, don’t you?” You nodded, and he smiled. “That’s all I need.”

You smiled, pleased, then sighed,

“I really should get going to bed though, and you should too, it’s nearly curfew.”

Fred merely shrugged carelessly,

“Meh, I’m on break, who gives a rat’s ass what Filch tries to do.”

“Okay, Fred, whatever you say,” you grinned, shaking your head playfully at his devil-may-care attitude. “Goodnight, now.”

“Goodnight,” Fred smiled at you.

You started to turn to your dorm, but you turned back at the last second, saying his name,

“Wait, Fred?”

“Yeah?” he replied, only for you to lean forward and kiss him softly on the cheek, pulling away slowly and blinking ever so gently. Blush was rising up his cheeks steadily, and he looked like he had melted on the spot, gawking at you.

You smiled, satisfied with yourself, and spun around, actually about to leave this time,

“See you in the morning!”

That night, you could’ve sworn your flower grew at least an inch taller, and you hadn’t even done a thing to it.

In the few days you had left at Hogwarts, you and Fred had been spending an awful lot of time together. You were actually taking the time to get to know him, because deep down you knew it was what you both wanted. Each time George passed by you two talking in an empty corridor, he coughed, “lovebirds!” And finally, it was time to leave. You all boarded the train back home, you sharing a car with Ginny and Hermione while the boys stayed with each other, though Fred passed by every hour or so to try and amuse you.

“D’you like him, Fred?” Ginny asked, leaning her head against the cool train window.

You looked down at the table, unable to hide your smile,

“Yeah, I do. And he knows it.”

“I think you two would be cute,” Hermione beamed, glancing up from the newspaper.

“I have to say, Fred’s never picked a better choice,” Ginny smiled.

The holidays at the Weasley house were hectic, but they were lovely all the same. George didn’t lie when he said his mother, Molly Weasley, made holidays stressful, but it was the good kind of stress. You were never bored, or lonely for that matter. You always had something to do, whether it be crusting pies, helping Molly magically wash the dishes, pillow fights with Ron and Harry, or listening to Hermione go on and on about her marks for her exams. Besides, Molly really did love you. She kept gushing over how smart and well-behaved you were. And you were convinced Fred had lied and told her you two were a couple, because any time she saw you and Fred together, she cooed, “you two!” and snapped a picture, leaving you blinded by the flash of her old camera.

It was probably the most bustling Christmas you’d had yet, and everything was going well.

The afternoon before, Molly had cooked a wonderful feast to be scarved down for tomorrow, and she put charms on all the meals to keep them warm and protected from the boys, who she knew would try to sneak down and take a bite before it was time. You sauntered around the kitchen on Christmas Eve. It was nighttime, and the kitchen was pitch black except for the light emanating from the tip of your wand. You opened the fridge, trying to make yourself a glass of warm pumpkin juice before bed. You’d stayed up late reading, thinking everyone else had gone to sleep. But you were wrong, and you gasped when the kitchen light turned on suddenly.

You jumped, clutching your chest and breathing in and out, only to see Fred laughing in the corner of the kitchen. You sighed in relief,

“Jesus, Fred, you scared me. Thought I was the only one up.”

Fred cocked his head to the side as if he were examining you,

“Late sleeper?”

You nodded,

“Sometimes. Why are you up?”

“I happen to be a late sleeper myself… and I heard your footsteps going down to the kitchen.”

You quirked a brow, amused,

“So you followed me?”

“This is my house, if anything, you’re following me,” Fred defended himself, folding his arms.

“I’m only joking, Weasley,” you snorted, continuing to fix yourself a glass of pumpkin juice.

“I like when you call me that,” Fred remarked, and you pretended not to hear him, but your cheeks were hot as ever.

He got closer to you, standing right beside you at the kitchen counter and leaning against it, watching as your hands shook out of nerves while you poured your juice. Since when did Fred make you nervous? And why was being close to him making you so lightheaded? He was looking at you, but you refused to look at him, keeping your eyes trained on your glass, not even noticing when it almost overflowed because your thoughts were elsewhere.

Fred, who had his cheek pressed into his palm, smirked, and did a onceover of you.

“Need help?” he taunted you.

You chuckled nervously, huffing,

“No?”

“You sure?” he asked, almost challenging you to look at him.

You turned to face him, rolling your eyes, but you weren’t prepared for him to be standing up, towering over you. You took a deep breath in, while he simply grinned. You looked up at him, blinking rapidly as if there was something in your eye.

“Here,” Fred leaned into you, and you froze, only to realize that he was just pulling out his wand and tapping it against your glass.

When you picked it up and took a drink, the pumpkin juice was just as warm as you’d wanted it to be, and you didn’t even need to heat it up like you were going to.

“Thanks,” you grinned, your eyes flickering from his to the floor.

“Should be getting to bed. Happy Christmas Eve,” Fred gave you a slick three fingered wave and slinked away up the stairs, leaving you there to exhale a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You were in over your head, for sure.

On Christmas morning, you were the first one up, surprisingly. You got ready as quietly as possible, passing Hermione’s cat on the way to the bathroom as you got ready. For Christmas, you decided you’d dress nicely, putting on a well-fitting orange turtleneck with a black miniskirt. You headed down the stairs silently and found yourself in the kitchen, holding your plant in your hands so you could place it on the window in front of the sink and let it get a bit more light there.

You paused when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and when you saw Fred, you bit down on your lip. He grinned at you, dressed in his personal Christmas best, a sweater with “F” emblazoned on it that his mom forced him to wear every holiday season, and black skinny jeans.

“Hey,” was all he said with a knowing smile, and you grinned.

“Hi.”

“You’re up early,” Fred remarked, inching close to you so the only thing separating your body from his was the plant you were holding in between the two of you.

“You are too.”

“Funny coincidence.”

“Yeah. You’d almost think you were trying to catch me alone,” you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Fred played along.

“You’re a real joker, Fred Weasley.”

“I know,” Fred agreed. “But I’d be a real Scrooge if I didn’t make one tiny little

improvement to this Christmas.”

“And what’s that?” you chimed.

Fred tapped his wand just above him, and lo and behold, a mistletoe flower appeared out of thin air, levitating above your heads. You looked up at it, holding your gaze on the plant for a few seconds before giggling, looking down at Fred who was smiling at you.

“Merry Christmas,” he remarked quietly, his brown eyes peering into yours, inching his head forward, spreading his warmth.

“Merry Christmas,” you practically whispered just in time for his lips to brush against yours, tilting your head forward to engulf him in a slow, sweet kiss under the mistletoe, the light shining in from the kitchen windows, a healthy amount of snow falling outside.

His lips tasted like peppermint, and he smelled like mischief, but you wanted to hold him close. His sweater was scratchy and warm and thick, bristling against you. He was tender with you, his hands reaching up to roam your face, caressing your cheek and pulling you in closer to him by the small of your back, the petals of the flower in between you pressing against your chests. After a while, you pulled away, Fred’s cheeks red as ever, and your entire body on fire. You weren’t sure why you’d held back for so long, because now that you had a taste of him, you wanted more and more. When you pulled away, you blinked a bit, coming back down onto earth. When you and Fred met eyes again, you both giggled stupidly, clearly high off each other’s touch.

When you looked down at the plant, you noticed it had grown inches taller suddenly, and you looked down at it in bewilderment. It had done the same thing after you parted ways with Fred the night of the holiday party in the Gryffindor common room.

Fred answered the question you were about to ask,

“It’s an Amorfluous flower. It’s meant to be given as a gift from one lover to another, so that each time we kiss, it grows.”

You were in awe of Fred. Not only had he managed to get you a gift that was extremely fitting for you, but he got you one that was even more sentimental than you had managed to realize. You were amazed, and you looked up at him awestruck, tears threatening to form in your eyes.

He chuckled at the sight of you and hugged you close, careful of the flower,

“Don’t cry!”

“It’s- it’s just so lovely,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears from your eyes. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

Fred smirked,

“You’ve made it up to me, the lack of a gift.”

You chuckled,

“Good.”

“Er… should we kiss again? For the flower, of course,” Fred suggested, nodding down at the flower.

“Yes, of course. For the flower,” you grinned knowingly and leaned in again, your lips uniting in a sweet kiss once more.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x black reader #fred weasley x reader #hogwarts #christmas imagine #harry potter x black reader #black reader #reader insert #poc!reader #black!reader

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justxaxstrayxkid · 4 years ago

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Ranking every outfit Nora has worn

I've rated her human names and I've ranked her vessel names. Now it is time to rank all of her outfits 10 to 1. Why am I doing this? Because I'm a sucker for pretty clothes and babygirl is a fashion icon. These are just my opinions obviously so don't take them seriously. Though I am being dead serious when I say Mizuchi invented the fashion industry. What I want people to take away from this post is that we, as a society, need to respect Mizuchi's drip. No pun intended hehe

10. Childhood Kimono

No sense calling it the childhood kimono when she's always gonna be a child but idk what else to call this. I put this fit last because it's quite basic. There's not much to talk about here. I don't have any particular feelings towards it either. I do think the pink obi is cute. Mainly cuz pink is my favorite color. Also is it just me or does the kimono look way too big on her?

9. Childhood Kimono Enhanced ver.

This is the same exact fit as the last one and it only appeared in the one-shot manga bout Rabo and Yato but I want to rank it separately because of her accessory. She's just too cute with that little bow in her hair! Don't mind me fangirling over that bow like it's a national treasure. The sandals are nice new touch too.

8. Pink Kimono

This one is only shown in anime during the flashback scene where Yato massacred the ma clan. I love this kimono because it's in my favorite shade of pink. There isn't much to say about it though. It's pretty basic so I put in this spot

7. Volume 8 Kimono

This fit appeared on the cover of volume 8 of the manga. I have to admit, this fit is kinda crazy. Like the grape (??) socks, the random checkerboard pattern, the green hiyoku, the flower pattern, the flower in her hair. It all seems very random. But I actually think it goes together well! A hot mess can sometimes turn out beautiful. I like the way she looks with a flower in her hair. Mizuchi with hair accessories equals world domination. And why tf does that ayakashi doggie have a paper crane in its mouth? That's more random than the outfit lmao.

6. Fruit bowl Kimono

This one only appeared in a colored page of the manga. Can't remember what chapter or volume it was in exactly but I think it was in beginning. This kimono is very beautiful. The pattern on it reminds me of fruit bowls lol. Babygirl rlly has the best fashion sense ever. You can't change my mind on that. And she's wearing a hair accessory here! Rejoice!

5. Boysenberry Kimono

I think the color is boysenberry but I’m not sure. My eyesight isn’t that good. So this fit is from a Kami To Enishi card. The game is discontinued but I just couldn’t not add this fit in. It’s so pretty! The color of the kimono matches her eyes which is my favorite aspect of the outfit. I think the pattern on it is supposed to be temari balls. Or maybe it's supposed to be beach balls. Of course we can’t forget to mention the bow! Tbh I don’t think it matches with the rest of the fit. But hey, it matches better than the whole volume 8 ensemble. I still like the bow and I’m glad she’s wearing it!

4. Capybara Fit

First of all, how the heck do you spell capybara? I’ve seen it spelled in 5 different ways. Second of all, I LOVE THIS FIT MORE THAN MY FUTURE CHILDREN! Seriously it’s so cute! She rocked the whole world when she put this on. I screeched when I first read the chapter this was in. That's the sheer power of this outfit.

3. Yurei Fit

Next is babygirl's classic outfit, the yurei outfit! This fit is so iconic I had to put it in the top three. I have a lot to say about it. In a way, this fit is part of the reason why I got into Noragami. Like I'm an avid horror fan and I especially love any media that has to do with yurei. Yurei are Japanese ghosts for those of you who don't know. I saw a gif of Mizuchi here on tumblr and her character design caught my eye. I thought Noragami was going to be in the horror genre because of this fit. If she wasn't wearing this fit, I probably wouldn't have become interested in Noragami at all. Thank you to the yurei fit for getting me into this amazing series. I love her personal touches to it. Like the way she wears her hitaikakushi slanted, her big obi, her gauntlets, and her hiyoku. Her hiyoku had this lil flower pattern on it in the first few chapters. That was super adorable. It's a shame she never wears it again. Yurei are usually depicted just wearing a simple white kimono and with long hair. But babygirl has her own personal touches and she has a bob cut. She is rlly out here being a trendsetter for dead people in Japan. A round of applause for this fit.

2. Flower print Kimono

Excuse the poor quality pic. You've probably figured out by now that I have a thing for flower patterns lol. That's exactly the reason why this is my second favorite outfit of hers. It's one of her more simple fits. But I think it's to die for! Pun fully intended ;) If I remember correctly, in the past, she and baby Yato stole this from someone they killed. Sorry but I find that hilarious. R.i.p to whoever this kimono belonged to. You may have been killed but you didn't die in vain because a rlly cute girl has your kimono now. I wonder if babygirl would ever pull this out of her closet and wear it again. She may not even have it anymore since the flashbacks where she wore this were like centuries before Noragami takes place. This kimono might've already become tasty grub for moths :(

1. School uniform Fit

Of course, the school uniform is first. This fit literally invented the fashion industry! No one can tell me otherwise. Words can't fathom how cute babygirl looks in this. As a school girl who's been to multiple schools with uniforms, I think I'm qualified to say that Mizuchi looks better than anyone else in a school uniform. It's not just how she looks either but also the fact that Hiyori gave it to her. That really warms my heart. This fit did so much for the world. Like I've said before, it will go down in history as one of the best things to happen in fiction.

#nora noragami #noragami #mizuchi #hiiro #tsutsumi #furuhime #eyami #nora the fashion icon #if i missed an outfit don't tell me #i'll probably cry if i find out #it took me days to make this

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dreamiehrs · 4 years ago

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be careful what you wish for... it may already be true ➛ l.jn

lee jeno x reader ∗ fluff, witch!jeno, witch!y/n, gender neutral reader, fantasy!au ∗ length: 2,070 words

“jeno, don’t you think it’s ridiculous that you’re going to try to get y/n’s attention by a mere love potion? do you really think that’s gonna work on them?” renjun follows jeno closely in his basement, which was where jeno would make concoctions ranging from personality potions to death potions. he was quite the powerful potion maker, one of the most popular in the magic academy he attended.

renjun does his best not to trip over any equipment in jeno’s basement as jeno stands in front of a large wooden table, which was littered with tons of flasks, beakers, test tubes, pipettes, etc. if you could name it, it was probably on the table. jeno scoffs as he crouches down, finding his potion book in one of the drawers and pulling it out. “what’s the worst that could happen? why wouldn’t it work on them?”

“...the worst that could happen is that it doesn’t work and they could end up hating you forever! don’t you ever put this type of stuff into consideration?” renjun warns, watching as jeno studies each page of his brown leather book before flipping to the next page. his eyebrows furrow until he finds the page he was looking for, and walks around the table to his pantry, that was full of herbs and liquids to make his desired potion.

jeno chuckles, almost arrogantly, as he picks out a bottle full of rose leaves. “my potions never fail, junnie, you know this. I’m one of the best potion makers in this entire academy, so this potion definitely won’t backfire on me. if it does, I can just reverse it with one of my spells... however, I’m not really confident in spell-casting yet, so that may do more worse than good.” he hums to himself, picking out a few more things before turning back to face renjun.

“you’re too cocky for your own good, jeno. one day your potion is gonna fail on you, and you’re gonna have to face the consequences sooner or later. I’m not gonna stick along when that happens, so you’ll be all on your own when you have to deal with something like that.” renjun proclaims, now leaning against a wall with his dark brown owl familiar perched on his shoulder. renjun had named him owlvin because, well, it’s renjun we’re talking about here.

jeno slips on some gloves and gets to work on the potion, turning his oven on and filling up a medium pot full of water to make his potion with. “glad to know what type of friend you are, junnie.” he adds his ingredients one by one and starts to chant something quietly to himself as his concoction starts to lightly simmer.

renjun rolls his eyes, and owlvin snuggles up to his neck. this potion definitely wasn’t going to work, he thought to himself.

...

a few days later, after jeno had perfected his love potion to use on you, he seals it up in a light pink water bottle, so he wouldn’t mix it up with his regular water bottle. he was determined that this would work on you, and if it didn’t, he would resort to other ways to get you to fall in love with him.

you were a witch yourself, and although you would love nothing more than to get to know jeno, the famous potion maker at the academy, your friends had their suspicions about him.

“he acts so nice, but what if that’s all an act?” jisung mumbles beside you as the two of you were walking down the hallway, using his levitate spell to make the bag of popcorn levitate in front of himself. he pops a few pieces into his mouth, accidentally dropping some down onto the floor in the process.

“I beg to differ, sungie. I don’t think y/n would be interested in a guy who only fakes his kindness just to get rewards out of it, right, y/n?” chenle speaks up from your left, making sure to pick up any fallen popcorn pieces that jisung had accidentally knocked over.

you nod at his words, and jisung proceeds to catapult a popcorn piece at chenle’s head. chenle practically screams an “ow!” with his dramatic self, and luckily, the other students around you three didn’t even react, because they’re so used to chenle screaming for no reason now.

as the three of you enter the canteen, you come face-to-face with (speak of the devil) lee jeno. you do your best not to let your cheeks heat up as he looks at you expectantly. jisung stares him down from your right until chenle drags him off in another direction, giving you and jeno some privacy.

“y/n,” he breathes out, having to compose himself briefly before continuing. “I was wondering if you could do something for me?”

you raise an eyebrow before a chuckle leaves your mouth. “as long as it doesn’t have to do with cursing someone, then yes, I can probably do something for you, jen.”

his eyes widened. “of course not! I would never ask you to do something that dangerous... I wouldn’t want to put you in danger. anyways,” he pauses, pulling out a pink water bottle from his bag. “I was wondering if you could test out my luck potion for me?”

you take the bottle from his hands, inspecting the liquid inside of it. usually, luck potions were a gold-ish color, that would sparkle in the sunlight. however, this one was a rosy pink, which highly resembles a love potion. you were skeptical, to say the least, but knowing jeno, he wouldn’t pull off a stunt like this on you.

you nod, opening the cap of the bottle. “of course! I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow, alright?” he looks at you hopefully as you take a swig of the drink, almost cringing at how sweet it was. you send him a smile, and he seems relieved as you do so.

“right. see you tomorrow!” he runs off into the canteen to spill what he did to renjun, while you glance warily at the drink in your hands.

...

“...so? did it work?” renjun questions a few days later in the canteen, stabbing his fork in a piece of watermelon before popping it into his mouth. jeno sat there dejectedly in front of him, his tray still full of food as he picked at it occasionally. “hey, if you don’t eat now, you’re gonna end up regretting it later.”

jeno groans, pushing his hair back in frustration. “I don’t know! the day after I gave her the potion, she told me that it didn’t seem to work, and she gave me back my water bottle, which was half full of the potion.”

“wait... what potion did you tell her you were giving to her?” renjun deadpans, and owlvin coos when he sees jeno still.

jeno gulps. “I... uh... may have told her that it was a luck potion instead of a love potion...” he mumbles, and he can hear renjun sigh from in front of him. when he looks up, he notices that owlvin is facepalming with his left wing at jeno’s confession.

“you know you have to tell them eventually, right? it’s unfair that they don’t know it was actually a love potion... I mean, maybe they already figured that out, since they’re a witch as well.”

renjun was right, as always, and owlvin nodded his head in his agreement with renjun’s words. jeno groaned once again, tangling his fingers in his hair as he realized he’s messed up, and bad. you probably already knew that it was a love potion just from how he saw you examining it, so why didn’t you decline testing his potion? “you’re probably right, junnie. why haven’t they said anything, thou–”

“jeno?” he’s interrupted by your voice, and he flinches before glancing to his left, where you were now seated. renjun silently chuckles to himself as jeno’s draw practically drops, and he has to do his best to cover up his grinning face as he watches the two of you from the sidelines.

“y-yes?” jeno stutters within your presence, and you give him a sweet smile to soothe his nerves.

“can we talk about something, please? in private?” you send a glance in renjun’s direction, and jeno seems to pick up on that immediately. he turns to be met with renjun’s knowing look, and that’s all it takes for jeno to nod his head before glancing back at you.

jeno stands up and grasps your hand, pulling you up with him gently. “of course. let’s go to the courtyard.” he states, and as the two of you walk to the courtyard together, he can feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. even though he seemed composed conversing with you on the outside, he could feel himself practically exploding on the inside.

...

you two find a bench to sit down comfortably onto, and you turn your body towards him. “I wanted to talk to you about that potion that I tested out for you a few days ago. I know you said it was a luck potion when you gave it to me, but when I inspected it further, it resembled more of a love potion.”

he nods, playing with his hands nervously as he meets your gaze. it wasn’t an angry, disappointed glint that flashed through your eyes like he had expected. your gaze was soft as you looked at him, waiting for his next move. he was briefly surprised, and he made up his mind in a matter of seconds. “I’m sorry, y/n. it’s as exactly as you had assumed. it was a love potion that I had given you a few days ago, and for why I did so, it’s because I... I have had a crush on you for the past three years, and no matter how much time I would spend around you, trying to get you to have mutual feelings for me as well, it never seemed to work out. I know it was messed up, to give you a love potion without you knowing, and I hope you’ll forgive me for what I’ve done.”

his head hangs low as he studies the ground underneath him, not noticing how you have a huge smile on your face. “I already knew it was a love potion, jen. also, don’t worry, I forgive you.”

his head whips up to meet your gaze. “y-you knew?” he stammers out, his cheeks flushing a pink when he sees you nod.

“I knew it from the start, just from taking a good look at the liquid’s color. so, I wasn’t surprised that it wouldn’t work on me, mainly because I knew what it was already, but also because of another reason...” you trail off.

“another reason? w-what’s that?”

you scoot closer to him, and his eyes widen at the proximity between you two. “because love potions don’t work on someone when they’re already in love.”

“you’re already in love? with who?” he wonders, seeing how your eyes sparkle as you gaze at him. you hold back a chuckle at his question, and he looks at you, confused.

“oh, jen, you’re almost as oblivious as you’re confident. I thought it was obvious from the start, from the day the two of us had met, but if I have to spell it out for you, then so be it. I’m in love with you, jeno.” you use your hand to gently push away the hair that had fallen close to his eyes, and he locks eyes with you after you say this.

he couldn’t believe his ears, and his eyes for that matter, as you slowly started leaning in closer to him, your eyes flickering down to glance at his lips and then back up at him. when your lips collide with his, fireworks explode in his stomach as he cups one of your cheeks with his hand, eventually relaxing into the kiss.

as he’s having his moment with you, he realizes something. maybe he didn’t have to go through all of that work to get you to fall for him when you already were.

the universe works in certain ways to bring two people together, and luckily, for you and jeno, you didn’t have to do much to be brought together naturally.

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years ago

Text

Right Hand Man (Loyal to the End) Pt. 8

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You were like Talia’s daughter. The only thing was that you weren’t and instead, you had grown up in the foster care system and at a young age were taken by and personally trained by Talia. Along the way, you meet Damian and the two of you start to work side by side and eventually, after some time become closer and closer. However, when disaster in the league strikes, you face balancing an old, forgotten life as a normal child and the burden of right hand to the demon heir.

Note: I know that this is long and that there are a good number of time skips, but I didn’t want to make this into a series and just wanted it as a long fic because .... well because I can lol

Also, I didn’t want to have Damian so young in this so just go with it. I’m thinking maybe early 15 or almost 16 at the most. Idk I just don’t like writing for young Dami.

Warnings: angst, almost losing someone, buildings on fire, bombs, the usual lol

Word Count: 2181

Masterlist for Series

Both you and Damian had now been secretly dating for two months. It was an exhausting game of cat and mouse of either running from his family, or the prying eyes of the press. You had just excepted at this point that this was just going to be a new normal for a long time. There was nothing you could seriously complain about much however. This was all you had wanted for years and if the company of clandestine meetings was going to be a center of attention in this relationship, that was what was going to happen.

Dates were mainly just tea or coffee on the rooftops late at night for only a short amount of time if it was on patrol, and longer if it was at the manor. Right now, you were sitting in the library, laying in Damian’s lap, both reading your own books. No one but Alfred was in the manor however, you were sure that he knew about you and Damian. Light streamed in through the windows and silence blanketed the room as Damian ran his fingers through your hair, occasionally braiding it. You fiddled with the matching golden ring on your left ring finger some as he did this. This was the most relaxed you had been in years and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He didn’t know this until recently, but the only professor that had ever lived was one that you had. Your voice professor used to braid your hair during warm ups. She was the closest thing that you had ever had to a mother and in return for this, you begged Talia to let her live. You decided not to make it out so that you trusted or cared for her, but rather that she had connections to people that the league could use. With this tactic, Talia actually allowed her to leave but under a life- long oath of secrecy to protect the league. You braid your own hair when you were stressed or anxious but it’s better having someone else do it. Damian only found out when you started braiding and braiding your own hair in the roof tops one night at the league, only to let the piece unravel and start again.

“Beloved are you going to go on patrol tonight?” He asked breaking the silence.

“Of course.” You answered, “Is there a reason you asked?”

“No, I was just checking.”

“...Damian, how long do you think we’re going to stay a secret? I’m not upset or anything of the sort, it’s just a bit exhausting sometimes.” You questioned, flipping the page of your book.

“I don’t really know Beloved. How long do you think you’d want to stay like this?” Damian set down his book to give the conversation his attention seeing as this one was important.

You audibly sighed as he started braiding a portion of your hair, twisting it around and then letting it lose again, “I don’t really know, 3 months at most maybe?”

“Are you tired of seeing strangers online pine away after me?” He asked smirking.

You rolled your eyes and jokingly slapped his arm making him laugh, “What about me? I’ve seen plenty of suitors for myself.”

“Don’t remind me Y/N.”

“Oh no, I’ll remind you. First there was one that actually messaged me asking if I was single. Oh, another that tweeted asking if I was single. Then, there was another that mailed a love letter to the man-“

Damian cut you off, putting his hand over your mouth making you laugh. You sat up and sat crisscrossed in his lap facing him, running your fingers through his hair.

“You didn’t really think you could shut me up that easily did you demon?” You asked quietly.

“I’d gage you would find a way to get your point across any way you could General.” He kissed the corner of your lips which made you glare at him some before pulling him in for a real kiss.

“Next time some girl gets a hold of you at a gala though, just make sure not to charm her for me, will you?”

“Whatever you say.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Patrol started off boring and uneventful. Nothing exciting was happening but for maybe a few ally level crimes. You and Damian were perched on the rooftops looking down at the city lights and occasional people. Damian had obviously gotten the whole Robin outfit, in his own version of course. You however, took the same style as your past uniform. It was similar in the sense that it was amour and a hood, you still had your knives and compartments, this time though, the color was different. He couldn’t see the look on your face through the mask you were wearing which covered your lower face to your eyes, but he was sure you were bored. He was going to start a conversation when the comms came on with Bruce talking loudly.

“I need everyone at the Rosehill Apartments on 7th Street! There’s multiple bombs spread throughout the building, civilians are inside.”

You looked at Damian who nodded at you before you both swung off the building.

“ETA 2 minutes.” You replied back getting onto your own bike and speeding off towards 7th St. following Damian.

_______________________________________________________________________

Upon arrival to the building, you could see that everyone else was already inside but for Nightwing who on crowd duty until you two had gotten there.

“There’s one more bomb in the kitchens. Everyone else is either getting their own or helping the residences escape.”

You looked around for an entrance that wasn’t in terrible condition. Once you found one you ran towards it at full speed with a bomb on your mind.

“Stick close, the roof might not be stable anymore.” You said, “If the bomb goes off, I expect you to leave immediately.”

“Beloved I’m not leaving you if anything happens.” Robin replied running beside you.

You didn’t reply, instead bursting into the kitchen and jumping over one of the carts in the way of your path. Using the locator on your wrist device, you scanned the room stopping when it got a hit.

“It’s in the freezer!” You ran over and opened the door into the large room, “Hold this open and make sure it doesn’t close, I’ll disarm the bomb.”

Damian nodded and did what you said as you went inside and ripped open one of the floorboards to find a massive collecting of wires and buttons connected onto one device. The type of timebomb was one that you had seen plenty of times before in training and when you yourself had used them. Part of training was learning to make one so it wasn’t too terribly difficult to disarm this one. The hard part was getting out.

“Y/S/H/N!” You heard from behind you as you were about to stand up, “The place is on fire.” Damian called out, “We have to leave!” You turned around and saw the place ablaze. Damian already had his other mask up over his face so he could breathe when you got out of the freezer. The two of you started running out to find the hallway also up in flames.

“Don’t come near the kitchens, the whole place is going up in flames.” You said, “Bomb has been disarmed however.”

“Good, now get out of there.” Batman replied back.

“Working on that.”

You and Damian sprinted down the hallway making sure no one else was inside on your way out. Once in the lobby you turned hearing someone screaming from a room nearby.

“I’ll be right back.” You said turning around locating the person who was a small child.

“I can’t find my Mommy.” She said sobbing into your arms.

“I promise you I’ll find her.” You said running back up front, “I’m going to give you to Robin and he’ll take you outside, I’ll find your mommy.”

You reached the front of the building where Robin was, “Take her, she can’t find her mother, I’m going in after her.”

“You can’t, the building is going to come down at any minute!” Damian said taking the girl in his arms.

“I have to check, I can’t let her grow up without parents like I did.”

_______________________________________________________________________

You ran inside not really aware of what was happening outside anymore. Looking around you saw no sign of anyone but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be buried under something. As you did this, you pulled out the scanner again but this time had it scan for biological creatures instead of machinery. There was nothing at the point where you were. Going farther into the structure was a no go at this point but it was your only option.

Outside, Damian was trying to find the girl’s mother in the crowd as he mentally cursed himself for allowing you to go inside. He should’ve done more, he could’ve done more but he didn’t. Running to the line of ambulances, he looked for someone that matched the girl’s description of her mother. When he finally found the person, he rushed over just in time for the lady to see her daughter and burst into tears. She hugged her daughter and thanked Damian for bringing her back to her before Damian rushed back to find you.

“Y/N!” He screamed getting inside catching your attention.

Further down the hallway you heard Damian yelling for you. You turned around and started headed quickly for him and once he saw you, he announced that they had found the mother outside of the building. The two of you started running for the exit when you looked up hearing a faint beeping. The exit was 50 feet ahead and the closer to it you got, the louder the sound.

“Damian! There’s a bomb above us, I- I think it’s about to blow.” You said as pieces of wood from the building came down little by little, “5 seconds now!”

Damian had a look of terror as he picked up the pace. You knew that both of you wouldn’t make it without a little boost so you got behind Damian and launched him out of the way where Nightwing was standing right as the building was coming down. The last thing you heard was a defining thunder and then the screams Damian who was kicking and trying to get away from Nightwing to go back for you.

“Y/N is still inside you idiot let me go!” He sobbed trying to elbow his oldest brother in the rib.

The second round of explosions came, only making the structure collapse more, fire raining down.

“Beloved!” He screeched making Nightwing almost drop him in surprise at what he called you.

He understood why Damian was fighting so hard now, but that didn’t mean that he could let him go. The rest of the family standing by heard it as well. It would’ve been hard to miss anyways.

“You can’t go in after her!” Nightwing yelled over the explosion.

“I have to! She’s the only one I have, I have to go! Let me go!” Damian got lose just as the dust was settling.

He ran to where he last saw you and started digging, tears filling his eyes so that he couldn’t see. There was no chance you were still alive and if you were, it wouldn’t be for long. That was when he heard you try and move something. He was looking in the wrong place, only a few feet away. When he saw where you were, he lifted the piles of wood and debris off of you to find you badly injured and hardly awake.

“Beloved stay awake for me okay?” He said lifting you up out of the rubble.

There was a part of your side where you had gotten impaled. It didn’t look like it hit any vital organs, however, you were bleeding out rapidly.

He swept the hair out of your face and gently held you to him as he ran for the Batmoblie quickly trailed by everyone else. With you in the backseat, Nightwing front, and Batman driving, you were quickly headed for the cave. Damian wrapped your wounds tightly and held your head up in his lap checking your pulse every few seconds.

“How is she?” Bruce asked sparing a glance at the back seat.

“Unwell, I-I don’t know how she’s still alive.” Damian responded.

“Enhanced strength from the pit.” You groaned some in pain.

“What the hell?!” Dick turned around to see you trying to sit up, “Enhanced strength my ass, how many times did you take a dip?”

That earned a sharp glare from Damian and a reprimand from Bruce. He apologized realizing that he overstepped.

“Beloved don’t move like that, just stay down.” Damian said gently, “You’ll only hurt yourself more.

Getting to the cave, you don’t remember much, just waves of pain and floating in and out of consciousness. The only part that you really remember was the worst part, but that was later to come when everyone really thought you would die.

Tag List-

@we-want-mini-mini @a-door-into-my-mind @idkmanicantenglish @queengeorgiaaa @lucy-roo @wolfiemichele @grey-water-colors @random-fandom-girl-24 @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

Note

Omorashi Kohga? Don't tell me Sooga wouldn't love to get peed on/'marked' by his beloved master. Gross for sure, but these boys are gross, so...

I was gonna ignore this, because piss kink is NOT my thing. BUT, you do kiiinda have a point? In a real gross way, I can see this. That, and I’m gonna be answering some asks before I get to my main fanfics I’m planning. So, imma try this, but I’ve never written something like this before, so if it isn’t good, oh well, a bitch tried.

Having access to Master Kohga’s room was STILL a new feeling for Sooga. Kohga was currently in his napping spot, and he requested that Sooga clean his room for him while he napped. He knew he was really just trying to nap in peace, but Sooga was not one to refuse a direct order. His room WAS on the sloppy end, and it made Sooga feel better, knowing his bed was made, his floor was mopped, and his things were tucked away. All but his books, which he had just finished dusting. Kohga loved to read, Sooga noticed. They weren’t poetry or old war manuscripts like Sooga would prefer to read, but romances, funny plays, and occasionally historical books of the clan. Then there were the dirty books.

Books and magazines that held lewd material, enough to make a pervert blush. Sooga skimmed through the magazines, only to immediately close them. Pictures of men. LOTS of men. Some without clothes, some with. Mainly without. Sooga was not one to shame his master for his desires, or even the fact that his lust never FULLY stayed with him, but this was a bit...much. Sooga just lightly shook his head, and started to put it away. That was when he noticed a bookmark in one of the more leatherbound ones. He must be reading this one. He read the spine of the book; ‘of Knights and Passions’. Borderline romantic, actually. Sooga grew curious, and opened the page to where the bookmark was, and started reading.

‘He grabbed a hold of his knight’s long, red hair. His fingers coiled so tightly around his locks with such a heavy hand, it brought a sneer to the Knight’s lips. It made Prince Aezielle feel as though he was holding onto fire itself. A beast ready to be tamed, Aezielle was no longer going to tolerate his behavior. The high and mighty attitude he possessed did not fit who he served. He deserved some humbling. The prince pulled down his trousers, and shoved his cock in his face. The little night growled at him, only to be silenced by another hair pull.

'“You want to sound and act like a canine? Fine. Let’s treat you as such.”

He forced back his head, opening his mouth, and shoving himself in past his lips. He pushed himself till he was in the back of his throat, before he pulled himself out, making the red head cough. Before he could open his mouth, Aezielle pushed his head down, and proceeded to urinate right on the top of his head. The knight sat there, helpless and defenseless against his current plight.

"I hope you feel humiliated. I hope you feel like you know your place. I hope you understand that not only is your insolence intolerable, it is suitable for punishment. I hope you reek of your shame for days to come. Until you learn to obey, you shall smell of me."

Past his warm, dripping locks, the knight’s eyes seemed less fiery. Less bold and defiant. Perhaps, he truly was property of his liege'.

Sooga sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. He had just read some fictional story of a prince urinating on his knight, in order to get him to submit. It was disgusting, humiliating, unsanitary. But...Sooga thought about it. He thought of Master Kohga holding his hair like that, forcing possession onto him in a disgusting, demeaning manner. Sooga shouldn't be here on his bed, palming at the bulge that seemed to form.

"Maybe...oh, alright, before Master Kohga wakes up."

Sooga quickly tucked the book away, and sat down on the bed. He pulled himself out of his uniform, and proceeded to stroke his cock. This was shameful, touching himself not only without his permission, but on his own bed. He deserved getting pissed on. Deserved the notion of being tamed in a gross, vile manner. He stroked his cock slowly yet firmly, surprised at how quickly he found himself panting. Oh he REALLY liked this, apparently.

"PLEASE Master Kohga…"

Just once, to see what it was like. See what the hot fluid would feel like pouring down the back of his neck, the possessive look in his eyes upon being caught being so unbecoming. Humiliation and appreciation all in one filthy action. No wonder he was throbbing.

"Hey Sooga, you finished- woah."

Sooga nearly fell off the damn bed the second he was caught. Right. This was HIS room afterall. Sooga grabbed a pillow to cover himself, trying to find some kind of apology suitable. He should've known better than to indulge some fantasy as grotesque as this.

"Master Kohga I can explain!"

Kohga laughed, walking over and grabbing his pretty chin.

"You don't have to explain ANYTHING, Sooga. This is a big, pleasant surprise for me. Honestly all you'd need is a ribbon and you'd be the prettiest present~"

Kohga chuckled, leaning down to peck those lips, sort of into the taste of the drool. He plucked the pillow from his grasp, throwing it to the side and stroking his cock in his nice, skilled hands. He chuckled as Sooga seemed to whine under his touch.

"Now, what got my pretty boy so worked up? I'm dying to know."

He held onto his hand as he was stroked, looking as meek and as defenseless as he could, in hopes that Kohga would at least hear his wishes.

"I...read one of your books."

"Oh you did? Well, color me surprised! Which one?"

"'Of Knights and Passions', I believe."

"Oooh, good pick! Don't spoil anything though, I haven't finished it. What part was it that got your rocks off?"

Sooga hesitated, but Kohga’s prompting hand forced him to speak. He HAD to be more open with his Master, he deserved that much.

"The….part where the prince...uhm…"

"Was it where they fucked on the king's throne? That's a good part."

"I...no, didn't read that part. It was the uh...part where he….peed on him."

There was a silence between them, when Kohga let go of him, laughing till he was near to tears.

"YOU ARE N O T INTO THAT PART, NO WAY."

Sooga sat there, ashamed. Of course Kohga would find it disgusting. Find HIM disgusting even. He was about to just put himself away, before Kohga grabbed onto his wrist, trying to regain his composure.

"Oh my god, okay, I'm done, I'm sorry. I just. Was NOT expecting that, at all. So, is it like, the idea of pee, or a domination thing?"

Sooga shook his head, feeling too embarrassed to elaborate. That was when Kohga bonked his mask against his, finally seeming to calm down.

"I'm done, I promise. Come on big guy, I wanna make you feel good. I didn’t mean to laugh, I promise. I'll even make you fish tonight if it means you'll stop having that sour face of yours."

"...even salmon skin?"

"Even salmon skin. Come on, tell me, like a good boy."

Sooga sighed. He wanted to hide away from it all, but his hard cock demanded he at least explain himself.

"I...I like the idea of you doing it to me, in a possessive sense."

"See how easy that was?"

Sooga forced himself to smile a bit, upon getting the cheek pat from Kohga. He supposed his initial reaction of laughter was warranted, given the absurdity of it all. Sooga was about to just nod and tuck himself away, before Kohga snapped his fingers, pointing to the floor.

"Alright, let's do it then."

"I...pardon?"

"Let's do it! I'm willing to try anything at least once, especially if it means it'll get your cock nice and hard."

Sooga was clearly at a loss for words, unable to make sense of what he did to deserve master Kohga. He hesitated, before Kohga prompted him again, and Sooga obeyed, honestly a bit eagerly. Kohga patted his head, un doing his hair tie and lightly messing up his pretty hair.

"Such a pretty boy, my Sooga. Alright, play with that cock for me."

Sooga obeyed, toying with himself as Kohga ran his fingers through his scalp, really enjoying the rather assertive touch. Kohga pulled at his hair, forcing his head up to look at him. He put his cock right on his mask, rubbing it in his face as though he was bullying him.

"You make it so hard not to talk, you know. Looking the way you do, talking how you do, BEGGING the way you do. I love you, you know that? I love how you’re getting so much more comfortable, finding kinks all on your own."

"You...flatter me, master."

He was having troubles listening, given the fact that he was making himself feel so damn good right now.

"I'm just being truthful. You're my good boy, and I'm gonna give my good boy what he wants. Because he deserves a nice, big reward, doesn't he?"

Sooga nodded. He never felt like he deserved Kohga, but he did in fact, deserve to be rewarded for how far he's come. Deserved to be claimed in this manner. Deserved to be under the full rulership of his master. Kohga pushed his head down, and Sooga touched himself faster, knowing he was going to finally fucking get it.

And he absolutely did. He felt the warm stream start from his neck, before Kohga let go of his hair, in order to let it freely flow down his locks. It was hot to the touch, like Sooga expected, but what was so fantastic about it, was Kohga’s voice.

"That's it. Stay just like that, I'm not done with you. You're my boy, you're gonna smell like it. You're so into me, you're literally jerking yourself off while I just pissed all over you. You gonna cum? Cum on my floor? In my room? In MY arms? Do it. Do it and look at me."

Sooga lifted his head up, feeling his cock throb and the hot piss run down the side of his features. Kohga was staring at him so intently, so full of authority and leadership over him. Was it any wonder that he swore, and came all over the once clean floor? All while staring Kohga in his beautiful face? Kohga chuckled, shaking his head as Sooga pumped his cock free of all that nice, hot cum.

"So. I take it we found something you liked, huh big guy?"

Sooga found himself practically whimpering as he held onto his cock. That was everything he wished, and more. He nodded slowly, bonking his mask against Kohga’s.

"I...I do. But I enjoy any means of being claimed by you. You're wonderful, Master Kohga."

"Yeah and I'm in love with a little pissbaby. Let's get you a shower that ISN'T golden, dirty boy."

So Sooga had a rather odd, disgusting kink. But so long as Kohga accepted it of him, he could hold absolutely no shame.

#asks #kohga #sooga #lemon #listen #me and kohga will try anything at least once

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lysjeon · 5 years ago

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— sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When your boyfriend is late for your valentine’s day date you never thought it was because of a book he wanted to read to you. You would be mad for his tardiness, but how could you be when he comes running to you, chocolate-covered strawberries on one hand and a bouquet of your favorite flowers on the other and a big warm smile on his face as his twinkly eyes look back at you?

— ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: namjoon x reader

— ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff, smut, valentine’s day au, college au

— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fingering, dirty talk, sub/dome themes, chocking (tie and hands), creampie, namjoon has a big cock lol, unprotexted sex (stay safe pls), lots of sex jokes, namjoon being a cute ass bad boy boyfriend.

— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.7K

— part of the Bound In Love collab!

header credits go to @tokyoscript

Namjoon’s fingers gently ran along the spine of the books in the library, his eyes scanning all the titles quickly, stopping every once in a while to take one that seemed familiar out but shaking his head in defeat when he realized it was not what he was looking for. This had been the third aisle he had been searching and if it wasn’t because he was doing this for you, he would have given up two hours ago and gone somewhere else to find a last minute gift for you before he had to leave for your date.

“Hyung, what are you even looking for?” Jeongguk asked, plopping down on a bean bag near Namjoon as he mindlessly skimmed through a magazine.

“For a book.” He answered matter of factly.

“Oh, really? I thought you were looking for the ice cream truck.” The younger answered sarcastically. “Just tell me the name of the book you’re looking for so I can help you find it, or else we’ll be here for another three hours and we both have dates to go to.”

“I don’t know the name of it.” Namjoon answered, not even turning around to look at Jeongguk. “I just remember reading it in my lit class like two years ago around the time I met her.”

“Why are you so fixated on finding this book, anyway? Can’t you just choose one of the other thousand books you read to gift to her?”

“No, because in it there’s this part where it says what love is and I remember thinking I wanted to feel those exact words some day and now that I do I want to read them to her.” Namjoon explained, walking towards the next aisle, Jeongguk following close behind.

“I never thought you were the romantic type.” Jeongguk teased his hyung, laughing when he slapped his chest and rolled his eyes. “You know, when you two started dating I never thought it would work out.” The younger admitted, earning the older’s attention, who turned his head to look at him. “Don’t look at me like that,” He chuckled at Namjoon’s furrowed brows. “I don’t think anyone expected you two to work out.”

“What do you even mean?” Namjoon asked, slightly offended at his friend’s words.

“You two are so different, aesthetically at least.” He shrugged, “You wear black and leather jackets. You smoke cigarettes and intimidate people with how quiet you are most of the time.” Jeongguk started, “And she wears dresses and light colors. She’s a social butterfly and everyone knows her as the cute girl on campus.” He shrugged, “So it was weird seeing you two together at first and we all thought your personalities would clash just like your looks did, but then when I got to know her better I realized you two were actually pretty much the same.”

Namjoon couldn’t deny that. You and him were completely different, but that’s what made you feel attracted to each other in the first place. You were attracted to his tough boy image- that proved to be just a facade because once you started going out with him more and more you realized how nice he actually was, always listening to you intently and making sure you were comfortable with each of his advances on you- and the way he always looked at you as if you had put the stars in the sky. And he was attracted to the way you, unlike every other girl he had tried to talk to, didn’t seem to be intimidated by him, staring back every time you caught his eyes on you at a party before you had even started hanging out, always shooting him a smile that had his whole world shaking from the moment he met you.

“I guess you’re right.” Namjoon shrugged once again, focusing back on searching for that one book.

Without any other words the both of them went back to searching for the book Namjoon was so desperately looking for, giving a quick description of the book to Jeongguk so he could help him find it. Only now, just a couple hours before your date, he damned himself for putting it off for so long and not starting to look for it before, then again he never thought that it would be so hard to find it.

Almost an hour later, the maknae had left Namjoon to search on his own, as he had to get ready for his date and unlike his hyung, he wasn’t risking being late, mainly because his girlfriend would kill him if he was. Don’t get me wrong, Namjoon knew you would kill him if he was late, especially today because not only was it Valentine’s Day but it was also your second anniversary, but he wanted to find the book and give it to you today, and he wasn’t going to stop looking until he found it.

He checked the time on his phone as he walked to another shelf of books to continue his search. You had agreed to meet two hours from now, so if he found the book in the next 45 minutes he would have enough time to get ready for your date and not be late.

Of course, that didn’t happen because two hours later, when he finally checked his phone again, he saw the time and below it the multiple calls and messages you had left asking him where he was and if he had forgotten about your date. Heart racing with panic and book in hand he ran as fast as he could towards his dorm, where he took the quickest shower he had ever taken before he left to meet you.

Almost thirty minutes past the time you were supposed to meet your boyfriend you still stood there, small gift bag hanging from your wrist as you wrapped your arms around yourself in hopes of blocking the cold air that had your body shivering every now and then (you should have worn a thicker coat, but you made a sacrifice for the sake of the cute outfit you had planned days ago).

Once the initial anger of him being late for your date, worry started to settle in the pit of your stomach because it’s Namjoon, he had never been late to a date in the two years that you had been together and he wasn’t answering your calls or messages (of course it was because he was too busy rushing over to where you were to do so) so something you thought something must have happened.

In no time you were calling one of his best friends and roommates, Hoseok, but he didn’t answer. Next, you tried Taehyung, because you remembered him mentioning that he didn’t have any plans for tonight, so unless that had changed he should be in their dorm.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to where the familiar voice calling your name had come from and saw your boyfriend jogging towards you, breathing heavy probably due to all the stairs he had to run up, bouquet of red tulips in one hand and a box which contents you couldn’t see in the other.

You quickly ended the call and turned fully towards him, your arms crossing over your chest as you watched him catch his breath. Now that he was there, seemingly unharmed, your anger was coming back.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I-”

“Thirty minutes late.” You add, cutting him off.

“I know baby, I lost track of time.” He confessed, looking at you with an apologetic smile, his dimples prominent. “I got you these,” He said, handing you the flowers “And these.” He showed you the inside of the box, revealing a dozen chocolate-covered strawberries.

You looked up at him and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how cliché his presents were, his smile getting bigger when he heard you. How could you be mad at your giant boyfriend when he was always so cute and soft? Shaking your head slightly, you went on your tiptoes to leave a soft peck on his lips, making him hum in content.

“Baby, I’m really sorry for being late, I just got caught up trying to find this.” He said, shrugging off his back pack and looking through it to take out the book.

“A book?” You asked, looking up at him with a puzzled look.

“Yeah,” He laughed. “I was reading it for a class when we met and I wanted to show it to you.” He smiled down at you shyly, making your heart melt.

You both put down the blanket he had brought on his backpack and sat down on it, strawberries between the both of you waiting to be eaten as you watched Namjoon go through the pages of the book with a soft smile. He did a little victory nod when he found the page he was looking for and looked at you, only to find you already looking at him.

With one last quick look at you, he started reading the passage and it wasn’t long until you started getting emotional, his soft voice reading to you about what love is making your eyes fill with happy tears.

You loved this man, more than you could ever explain with words and sometimes you worried not being able to express to him how much he truly meant to you, but at the same time you just knew he did. You were sure that he knew that he was the one for you and that this was it, the would never be anyone else like him for you.

He knew because he felt the exact same way. Before heet you he had never wanted to spend his life with anyone. Date? yes, but actually imagining a future where he grew old and shared every single moment of his life with someone else had never crossed his mind until he met you.

“When we started dating I knew that I would feel these words for you some day,” he confessed, referring to the book. “And of course I’ve felt them for a while, but I don’t think I’ve ever told you that you’re the one. I know you know, but I’ve never actually said it.” He smiled, his thumb collecting a few tears that fell down your cheek. “I love you, pretty girl, and I want to spend my life with you.” He whispered, leaving soft kisses all over your face as he spoke.

“Fuck, I hate you. I spent like two hours on my make up and you made me ruin it.” You say, making him chuckle.

“It was gonna get ruined later anyways.” He shrugged and winked as you hit his chest with your hand playfully.

You get up quickly and before he can even ask you what you were doing you sat back down on his lap this time, your legs on either side of him as your hands cupped his face to make him look at you.

“Joonie, I love you.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him softly for a few seconds. “I want to spend my life with you too, that’s why I got us this.” You say, handing him the small gift bag to him and waiting for him to open it.

"What is it?” He asks, taking a peek inside the bag.

You chuckle and shake your head. “You have to open it to see!”

He chuckled along with you as he took out the small rectangular box, giving you a quick curious glance before you urged him to open it with a smile that was making his heart race. When he finally opened the box, he saw two delicate gold rings that had both your initials engraved on the inside.

“Do you like them?” You asked with a smile when he looked up at you. “I know you hardly ever wear rings but I thought getting couple rings would be nice. They’re like unofficial promise rings.”

“Unofficial promise rings, huh? For a moment I thought you were about to propose to me.” You both laughed at that “Not gonna lie, I would’ve said yes.”

“I know, it’d be a blessing to have me as a wife.” You joke, making him snort as he leaned into you.

He pressed his lips against yours softly at first, but that didn’t last long because as soon as your arms wrapped around his neck to bring him closer he left the rings on the floor next to him so his hands could wrap around your waist.

The kiss turned hungrier and deeper, and you patted yourself on the back mentally for just wearing a tinted chapstick instead of lipstick. Namjoon’s hands slid down your back until they reached your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you moan against his lips and him to chuckle at your reaction.

He pulled away from your mouth and started trailing kisses down your jaw, licking and sucking purple marks into the skin of your neck that you know would be a pain in the ass cover, but you were past the point of caring. His hands reached the hem of your long dress, that thanks to the way you were sitting on his lap was scrunched around your knees, and rand them along the soft skin of your thighs until he reached your pantyline.

“Joon,” You whined, already worked up by his touch.

“Hm baby?” He asked, lust clear in his deep voice. “What’s wrong, little one?”

You whined again at his words, slowly starting to grind against him for some kind of relief, making him look down and chuckle at you. You stopped and moaned loudly when his hand slapped your ass, and even in this position his slaps were sharp and hard.

“You’re being so needy.” He chuckled darkly, completely taken over by lust. “So, so needy.” He repeated, finally sliding his fingers inside your panties, his fingers instantly getting covered with your wetness. “And so wet already. You’re always such a good girl for me, and since today is a special day I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” He asked, one of his fingers pressing against your clit and making you jump up.

“Y-yes.” You stuttered as his finger started moving. “Fuck, p-please.”

“Please what, baby? What do you want?”

“Fingers. In me.” You simply said, sentences getting harder and harder with every flick of his skillful fingers against your clit.

“Anything for you, princess.”

The moment he said that, two of his long fingers entered you, the sudden stretch making you almost scream in pleasure. He quickly set up a fast pace, one that had you seeing stars every time his fingers curled inside you. His free hand joined his other one and started playing with your clit, the bundle of nerves sending strong waves of pleasure through your whole body.

The fire in the pit of your stomach was almost painful as you were getting so close to your release. Seeing how close you were to your high, Namjoon started sucking and biting once again on your neck, knowing how sensitive you were there.

“Hngg- gonna c-cum.” You say breathlessly, hands squeezing his shoulders tight for support.

“Cum baby, cum for me.” He whispered against your collarbone.

His words were enough to push you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you were shaking against him as he helped you ride it all out. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist once you became too sensitive for him to continue fingering you, signaling him to stop.

As you tried to catch your breath, you watched him bring his hand up to his mouth, his fingers covered in your release. He licked them clean, the sight making you whine.

“You look so hot doing that.” You say breathlessly, making him laugh out loud at your comment.

“You good?” He asked you a few minutes later. “I wanna take you somewhere.”

Intrigued, you nodded, and soon you were leaving the rooftop everything had started in two years ago, hand in hand and shiny new rings on your fingers.

>> “Why do I have to wear this?” You asked, more like whined, as you clung to his arm for support.

“Because if you didn’t it would ruin the surprise.” He said, and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smirking.

A few minutes ago, before you got out of his car, he had blindfolded you with a tie that he had brought on his backpack, claiming that he had a big surprise for you and that he didn’t want you to get any ideas as to what it was until you actually saw it.

You couldn’t see anything which only made you hyper aware to sounds around you, but nothing that you’ve heard so far had given you any clue as to where you were or what Namjoon’s surprise was. So far you heard a dog barking, your footsteps echoing loudly as you walked up some stairs, an elevator, hardwood floors and finally the jinggling of keys.

“You’re not gonna kill me, are you?” You asked when he left you standing there and you heard a door close behind you.

“Why would I have waited two years to kill you? It would’ve been a waste of my time.” He answered simply, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he came back to your side and made you walk a few steps more.

“I mean, maybe you wanted me to trust you so you could kill me without me putting up much of a fight?” You tried to reason. “Although that would be kinda stupid because usually the boyfriend is always one of the main suspects.”

“Babe, I’m not gonna kill you.” He laughed.

“I’m just saying you could, and I would’ve never suspected a thing.” You shrugged.

“Okay, I’m gonna take your blindfold off.” He whispered against your ear, shivers running down your spins at his soft voice.

You could feel him behind you, his chest was lightly pressing against your back as his fingers slid the tie that was blocking your vision down your head, leaving it hanging loosely around your neck. When he took it out, it took you a few moments to adjust to the lighting, but once you did you frowned, confusion taking over you.

As you looked around you started to recognize the place, it was the same as the last time you had been there, except for a mattress in the middle of the empty living room space and grocery bags next to the kitchen counter.

“This is the apartment we looked at a few weeks ago for you, isn’t it?” You asked, finally turning around towards him. “Did you get it?” You asked, excitement rushing over you when he nodded. “Oh my god! I’m so happy for you, Joon, this is the one you really liked!” You say jumping up and down and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He laughed at your reaction and wrapped his own arms around your waist before he spoke. “This is the apartment that we liked.” He corrected you, smiling brightly. “There’s a reason I wanted you to come apartment haunting with me. I wanted to get a place that we both loved because I want you to move in with me.”

You were clearly taken aback by his request, your eyebrows raising and your eyes getting big. “Really?”

“Yeah. We basically spend every night together already, whether it is at your place or my dorm and given that we both have roommates I thought it would be nice to have a space that’s just our own.” He explained. “Besides, here we can be as loud as we want.” He teased, squeezing your hips. “So what do you say?”

You smiled up at him and pecked his lips quickly. “Of course I say yes.” You answer, making him pick you up and spin you around, both of you laughing out loud.

When he put you down, he pressed his lips against yours, starting a kiss that once again started innocent but quickly turned sinful, tongues messily crashing against each other.

“I guess now we have to christen the apartment, don’t we?” You say teasingly, one of your hands coming down to squeeze his already hardening member.

He smirked at your words. “I guess so.”

As your hand continued rubbing his cock through the material of his jeans, he wrapped the long end of the tie around his fist to pull you in for an even hungrier kiss. As you kissed, you could feel his hands fiddling with the tie knot, wrapping it tighter around your neck and pulling you away from him when it was tight enough.

“Strip, little one.” He said, voice deep and tone demanding.

As you started stripping, first taking off your leather jacket- that he had gifted to you for your last birthday - and then slipping off your dress, you could feel his intense gaze on you, dark eyes scanning every single new patch of naked skin you revealed to him.

Once you were standing just in your underwear, you looked up at him with a smile, your eyes flickering to the now painfully noticeable tent in his tight jeans before locking your eyes with him and licking your lips. He knew exactly what you were thinking in that moment, so without saying anything, he pulled the tie down and in no time you were on your knees, hands quickly working to unbuckle his belt and take out his cock.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He chuckled as he watched you pull down his jeans and boxers in one quick motion.

“For you? Always.” You answered with a smirk.

Your hand wrapped around his cock and slowly started pumping it, your eyes locked on his, watching the pleasure your hand only was causing him. When he had enough of your teasing, he pulled on the tie quickly, making you giggle and get closer to him, licking a long stipe up his dick and pushing the tip into your mouth when you reached to it.

Getting bored of just having his tip in your mouth, you started taking him deeper and deeper, until you could feel him in the back of your throat and you were struggling to breathe properly, and even then you couldn’t take all of him in. Namjoon was big, the biggest you had ever seen and you remember feeling intimidated by his size when you started dating him but now, two years down the road, you absolutely loved it.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” He groaned, the hand that didn’t have the tie wrapped around it going to tangle in your hair. “Do you think you could go deeper?” He asked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes, but challenging yourself you nodded as best as you could. “Okay baby, relax your jaw.” And you did, little by little he started pushing deeper than he has ever been. “Fuuuck, shit, that’s it. You’re being so good. Stay there.”

When he saw that you couldn’t take him any deeper he stilled there for a few seconds, head thrown back as your throat squeezed his dick before relaxing again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He said, suddenly pulling all the way out of your mouth, making you start coughing and thick strands of saliva to dribble down your chin. “Baby, you’re so good to me, I almost came there.” He chuckled, pulling on the tie so you would stand up. “You okay?”

Without hesitation you nodded, the ache in the muscles of your throat the least of your priorities right now, and to be honest you could barely feel it with how turned on you were.

“Bed, now.” He demanded, letting go of the tie so he could take off the rest of his clothes.

You obeyed, turning on your heels and quickly walking towards the lonely mattress. You sat down on it and focused on how your boyfriend was taking his shirt off, seeing him strip was honestly one of your favorite parts of having sex with him. He always was so hot and sometimes it only took him taking off his shirt to have you wet beyond belief.

“Like the view?” He asked, walking over to join you on the makeshift bed. “You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“I plan on it.” You answer back, making him laugh.

After that he wasted no time in more small talk, he hooked his fingers onto you panties and slid them down quickly, revealing your glistening pussy to him. He pushed your legs open and leaned down to lick a few long stripes up and down your slit, making you moan every time his tongue pressed against your clit.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He whispered against your thigh, lightly biting it before he went back to lick your pussy a few more times. “Look how needy your little cunt is, it’s spasming already begging for my cock, isn’t it?” He says as he kissed up your belly and unclasped your bra.

“Please, Joon, fuck me.” You whine, your back arching when his mouth started sucking on one of your perked up nipples.

He didn’t answer you, but you could feel him smirk against your breaks. One of his hands went down between your bodies to guide his cock towards your entrance, making you gasp when you felt his tip pushing into you. He started slow, knowing that even after all this time, you still needed a few seconds to adjust to his size.

When you tried to push him deeper, that was his confirmation that you wanted him to continue, so without warning he slammed the rest of his cock into you until your hips were flush together and deep moans escaped both of your lips.

“Fuck, faster.” You almost screamed, his cock grazing your gspot with every thrust.

You didn’t have to tell him twice. His pace quickly fastened, making you scream his name and your vision to go blurry from pleasure. He pushed himself up with his arms, looking down between you to watch his dick disappearing into your pussy. When he looked back at you, your head was thrown back, eyes closed shut and mouth wide open as loud moans escaped it.

One of his hands wrapped around your throat, lightly squeezing so you would look at him, when you did he almost came right then and there, you looked so fucked out already. Your lips were bright red and swollen, your cheeks were flushed with pink and a thin layer of sweat covered your whole body.

Absolutely beautiful.

“Fuck baby, I-I’m gonna cum.” He warned, at this you opened your eyes and nodded, wordlessly telling him that you were too.

His thrusts became harder and sloppier, and it didn’t take much longer for both of you to come undone after that. Loud moans and curses were shared as both of you reached your highs together, Namjoon continuing to thrust into you to help you ride out your orgasm until you were too sensitive to handle his soft thrusts.

He carefully slipped out of you, watching his cum drip out of your pussy for a few seconds before he plopped down next to you, turning his head so he could look at you.

“You look so cute like this.” He commented as he pushed your hair away from your face.

“Like what?” You chuckled.

“Fucked out.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You probably ruined my make up.”

“I did, but you still look pretty.” He shrugged and leaned in to peck your lips. “Want one?” He asked, reaching over you to take out a package of cigarettes from the pocket of his backpack.

“Only if we share it.” You nodded, watching him light one up and then handing it to you.

“As long as you share those extremely overpriced strawberries.” He laughed, watching you exhale the smoke into the air.

“Wouldn’t share them with anyone else.” You kiss him. “Happy Valentine’s day and second anniversary, baby. Thank you for not killing me.” You whisper against his lips.

He laughed loudly at that and kissed you again. “No problem, babe. Happy anniversary.”

#hyunglinenetwork #moonchildnetwork #bangtanarmynet #thekimlinenet #kim namjoon #bound in love: the collab #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon au #namjoon college au #bts namjo #namjoon fic #lysjeon #bts rm #boyfriend namjoon #bts kim namjoon #rm

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